What I Bargained For
by Silver.Rain.Momentos
Summary: After choosing not to become a vampire, and escaping the Volturi by transporting herself and Hope to the world of Amestris, Hannah's in for a whole new set of adventures.Will she ever return to her own world? 4 in theWish Series! Crazy stuff here, people!
1. Walking At Night, Alone

What I Bargained For

Part One: Walking At Night, Alone

_Holding my breath walking at night with you  
I get to hear your voice again  
If this is a dream, maybe you'll stay with me  
Stay with me, please stay with me _

_This is where we met  
We're back here again_

_Don't leave me alone  
Don't leave me alone  
I can't stand the way the world feels  
When I'm walking alone_

_Can you please keep talking to me now  
Tell me all about your new friends  
I know you don't think I can hear you now_

_But I'm listening, I'm listening _

_And this is where we met  
We're back here again  
...back here back here again..._

_Don't leave me alone  
Don't leave me alone  
I can't stand the way the world feels  
When I'm walking alone_

_Life seems like a mess  
When it won't let go of me  
But when it's gone I don't feel  
When it's gone I don't feel alive_

_Don't leave me alone  
Don't leave me alone  
I can't stand the way the world feels  
When I'm walking alone_

_World seems like a mess  
When it won't let go of me_

_But when it's gone I don't feel  
When it's gone I don't feel alive  
When it's gone I don't feel alive_

As I tumbled through the portal — the Gate, I should properly call it, I guess, I did not quite encounter the same experiences as Edward had on his multiple trips through and to the Gate. But it was pretty damn close. It was a tunnel of swirling, flashing golden light, just as I imagined. With all the information and life-energy surging through the gate, it was like being plugged into the world's largest power plant. I was practically buzzing. Images and information flew through the tunnel with me, and upon contact with them, I knew instantly of when, who, what, and where. Edward once said that what was in the Gate was the truth. Izumi, Edward's alchemy teacher, didn't think so. I myself saw it as just information, and that we all make of it what we will. There were mostly 'clippings' from the past of my own reality, but as I surged on for who knows how long or far, I began to see images from Amestris. Parts of the Ishbal War, and other things that where knew to me. But nothing too earth-shattering. Hey, you think by this point _anything_ would faze me? Well, maybe a few things... but hey.

Then my kidneys dropped to my ankles. I saw long, black arms stretch out towards me. This was not good. My eyes widened to a frighteningly large size, but I had bigger things to worry about. They latched onto my arms and legs, wrapping around my waist.

I struggled, cursing. "No, NO, _NO! For the love of all that is good, NO!_" I protested, shouting into the void. I pried two arms from around my waist, but it was no use, of course.

More arms surged around me. Then suddenly, one of the thinner arms snaked towards my chest. Its fingertips touching my solar plexus — a bundle of nerves and dense tissue behind the diaphragm. Suddenly, as if only half-there, the arm reached _INTO_ my solar plexus. I gasped haltingly, momentarily shocked. I could _feel _its arm in my rib cage, its little fingers as it dug around inside me. Not quite causing me pain, but I felt the intense need to puke. I felt it latch onto something in my chest. Somehow I _knew_ it was reaching for my powers. I didn't know that my power had come from such a place in me, like a second nervous center. As it started to pull my power from me, I fought violently.

"_Fuck, no! NO! FUCK! DON'T TAKE THAT FROM ME!"_ I shouted thrashing, hurling obscenities like it would make a difference. Needless to say, I was infuriated, enraged, downright _pissed._ And more than a little desperate.

I tried to push it out using my power. It clung to that smaller portion, which left my body. It left me drained, but I could still feel my energy in my chest, fluttering like an injured bird. The hand retreated, bringing the others with it. I heaved a ragged sigh, a hand of my own over where the hand of the Gate-thing had been. There was no wound, no blood, but I was damaged. I was at just a little more than half my original strength, even with the boost from the Gate's energy. This could be bad. If I ever wanted to go back... it wouldn't be easy.

A bright, white light suddenly appeared in front of me. _'The end of the Gate tunnel, the other side. They sure took their sweet time.'_ I thought, just a little bitterly.

I prepared for landing, or however I'd come into Amestris. It didn't go quite as planned. I entered the light, and the gravity was suddenly switched back on, some god taking justice on me for some past crime, laughing at my expense. Well, really, it was interesting to imagine. I fell, landing head first on the side of my face, then on my shoulder and so on, onto hard-packed, stony dirt. Still half-blinded from the bright light of the tunnel, I couldn't see where I was, or where I would be going.

"Ouch!" I cried out, cursing generously. The trip down the rabbit hole had not left me in a happy mood. Then I found myself rolling down an embankment, once being unfortunate enough to hit a bush of thistles. I continued to roll at the foot of the embankment, the ground having flattened out a little, but no! No breaks for Hannah! I thought I was safe, and that's when I rolled straight into a _really _cold river.

Me: not happy.

I was floundering in the rushing water, spitting out mouthfuls of it while trying to blink my vision back to normal. Note to self: when traveling to other parallel dimensions, avoid transporting into, or near inclines or moving bodies of water. Or water _period._

I struggled to find up from down. Really, you might be surprised how much of a chore that was in my current state. I'm sure you understand. We've all had those days, you know? One morning you get up, wanting to go space/time-surfing, and you end up getting sucked up by a black hole. Irony sucks, am I right?

I finally got control in the current, treading the churning water. The current continued to carry me downstream as I swam to the bank. I clutched onto the dirt and the clumps of grass.

"Help!" I spluttered, coughing river water. I pretty much looked like I drowned rat. I couldn't _see _it, but I knew. Either which way, I knew that if I didn't look like a drowned rat, I looked like a drowned _something_, most likely something small and furry. Most people just prefer to say rat, but I dare to be different.

And while that particular little mind-rant was going on, a few people had rushed to the river bank, skidding down the embankment. A graying man and a teenage boy each came to the bank. Each reached for one of my arms and pulled me up onto the wonderful, magnificent, beautiful solid ground.

"Someone get a blanket!" The grayed man called out. I was sopping wet, and as they helped me up, I saw a middle-aged looking woman come up to me with a blanket.

"Thank you, thank you so much." I sputtered, wrapping the blanket around me, finding that I was shivering, chilled from my delightful swim.

"It's no chore." The woman said.

'_Where did these people come from?'_ I pondered.

I looked up the embankment. And blinked in total anime-style. There was a town. I saw dirt road going along the top of the hill and past that was a small dirt street lined with street vendor huts boasting wares. There was a small crowd that had collected, looking on curiously.

'_I hope they didn't see me come out of nowhere...'_ A tall order, I know, but I could hope.

"Hey, what's that?" The young man pointed to my left, down the bank. Down the bank, strolling cheerfully along, was a tan kitten.

'_I can't believe it...'_

Hope came to me, rubbed against my ankles and meowed plaintively.

"Is the cat yours?" The gray man asked me.

I paused a moment. I may have imagined it — I probably didn't — but Hope gave me a sharp glance and I smiled, scooping her up. "Yes, she is! I thought I lost her!" I cuddled her in my wet arms. Hope growled a little, but didn't complain. Not with people around.

"I saw you fall down the embankment." The young man explained. And no, he wasn't Edward, or anyone else we know, if he was, you'd know. He was just some random anime guy. He had brown hair, brown eyes, medium build and looked about seventeen. Typical random anime guy. Anime. Weird.

The grayed man looked to be about in his late forties and farmer-ish with gray hair. The wife was a plump, kind-looking woman with laugh lines and wavy brown hair

'_Wait, anime... right...'_

I looked around, realizing for the first time that everything was animated. Anime grass, anime water, anime town, anime people. Even Hope was animated. Wait... then that means... I looked down at myself. Woah. I was definitely animated too. My clothes my skin, the water dripping out of my hair. This was new, if not necessarily an unwelcome change. In fact, it looked, and felt… right.

"Missing anything?" I heard the woman ask, "current's pretty strong."

"Nope, everything's here." I said, smiling faintly.

"Let's come away from the water, then." Mr. Gray man suggested, leading us up the embankment. He offered to help me up if I needed it, I declined, explaining I was fine, just wet and cold. "This is my son, Neal." He gestured to the guy now on my right, who smiled and nodded. I did the same back. "I'm Gregor, and that wonderful woman in front of you Margaret, my wife."

"Nice to meet you all. I'm… Alice." I said, laughing silently to myself, and Hope meowed. After glancing at her I added, "and she says hello too."

"What an adorable little thing." Margaret cooed, scratching Hope under the chin. I could see she wasn't particularly fond of it, but she purred, just to be polite. She'd have something to say about it later.

"You're not from around here," Gregor observed, looking at my old jeans — which I'm glad to say that, looking at what Neal was wearing, were common in dress codes around here — and my long-sleeved white linen shirt, and my long, almost trench coat-like, well, coat, all the way down to my black, lace-up boots. "You travel?" He asked.

"Yeah," I replied easily.

"You don't seem to carry much with you."

"Travel light. And this was sort of a last-second thing, so I wasn't able to take much even then." I explained, hoping not to leave any holes in my story.

"I see, I think we might be able to help you there." Gregor grinned amiably, patting my shoulder.

"You really don't need to — " I began.

"Nonsense!" He interrupted. "We enjoy helping the odd travelers or two that come through here when they need it."

Neal nodded encouragingly.

"We insist." Margaret said then.

As it turned out, they owned a shop in town specialized in traveling gear — even a small section where you can buy some clothes. Bless them, bless them and their dear shop.

We'd entered the shop when we saw the place in shambles. Shirts had been torn up, and were lying on the floor, and suitcases had been scuffed and dented. Margaret gasped, her hands going to her mouth. Even hope looked surprised. "Oh, no! It must have been those blasted Kieran boys." Margaret exclaimed.

Gregor put a hand on her shoulder and Neal balled his hands into fists. "I'll set 'em straight." He growled.

"No, Neal, it won't solve anything." His father warned.

"I'm so sorry you had to see this," Margaret turned to me, apologizing.

"It's alright." Then, something dawned on me. "I might just be able to help you."

"How?" They asked, wondering.

"Watch." I go over to the shirts, pick one out of the crumpled pile, kneel, and set it on the floor in front of me. I concentrated, focusing on the dirt lifting from the shirts and the seams and rips repairing in the cloth. I clapped my hands together, then placed them on the shirt. It was unnecessary, seeing as I could repair it even from a distance, but with an audience that would make things complicated. The fabric glowed faintly. The seams began to re-stitch themselves and they grew bright with cleanliness.

"Wow, so you're an alchemist! No wonder you travel light!" Gregor exclaimed, laughing a little.

Their faces lifted. I stood, holding up the pristine shirt. Even though at just half my original strength, I was just as strong as any alchemist out there, maybe even with a big advantage: it wasn't even Alchemy - not really, I think.

After repairing all the damaged items, the family was even more insistent upon helping me, for which I was massively grateful. Seeing as I didn't have any money, but they assured me my services with repairing their shop and their wares was more than enough payment in return.

"So, where're you headed?" Gregor asked me.

I blinked twice. "Oh, to Central. I'm... looking for someone." I replied. I could see out of the corner of my eye that Hope looked up at me, a little questioningly, but this was lost to the three.

"Anyone we might know?" Margaret asked.

"Probably not." I shrug dismissively, smiling amiably. "You think you could point me in the right direction?"

"Head North-West, just follow the road out of town." Gregor explained.

"Well, thank you so very much for helping us, so we'd like to help _you_ now." Margaret continued. She produced a suitcase, one of the ones I had fixed.

"I couldn't possibly—" I began, then she clicked open the clasps and, grasping the top, bringing it open. Inside, there were several shirts: a black sleeveless tank-top–like one (it looked a little tight, hopefully it stretched), a V-necked t-shirt in white, and a long-sleeved linen shirt much like the one I was currently wearing that tied at the cuffs, then a three-quarter sleeve shirt in red (my instant favorite). There were three pairs of women's slacks besides that.

"It's yours, a little thank you for helping clean up the shop and fixing everything." Neal said.

"Thank you," I said, a little flushed from their kindness.

Margaret closed the case with a snap, and held it out to me by the handle. "It's no trouble."

I took it gratefully, bowing deeply to them. "Thank you for your hospitality." At my bow, I could see Hope, looking as if she could raise an eyebrow right then, if it weren't for our company. Still bowing, I winked back to her, the action hidden by my long hair. I straightened.

"I suppose you want to get going now?" Gregor asked.

"Actually, yeah, I'm eager to get back on the road." I admitted, scratching the back of my head ruefully.

"Well, we won't keep you then. Bye, Alice, it was nice meeting you." She said, and they all waved.

I waved, and headed out the door. I paused on the threshold outside the shop, seeing them enter a back room that was behind the counter. It must have lead to the housing part of the building, seeing as this was two stories high, and the shop was only on the first floor. I saw no one else around, so I kneeled by the mat in front of the door.

'_This will fix those Kieran kids.'_ I thought, remembering the cause of the shop cataclysm. Placing my hands to the dirt, my... ability soaked into and around the foundation of the building. Now those Kierans wouldn't be able to cause any harm to this shop anymore. It was the least these people deserved.

"You're generous." Hope observed.

"Maybe I am, but we should discuss this on the road, where people are less likely to see me talking to a cat. And it talking back." I commented, and we headed back down the street to the dirt road out of town.

"I'm sure that woman was a very good person, but I resented it when she scratched my chin like that. I hate feeling like some common house cat." Hope complained, cat-frowning.

"Oh yes, because you're too proud for that." I agreed, laughing.

"Oh, quiet, you."

"What are you going to do? _Scratch me?_" I taunted her.

She fixed me with an eerie, scary-calm look.

I didn't say anything else.


	2. On My Own

What I Bargained For

Part Two: On My Own

_I walk alone  
Think of home  
Memories of long ago  
No one knows I lost my soul long ago _

_Lied too much  
She said that she's had enough  
Am I too much  
She said that she's had enough_

_Standing on my own  
Remembering the ones I left at home  
Forget about the life I used to know  
Forget about the ones I left at home_

_I need to run far away  
Can't go back to that place  
Like she told me  
I'm just a big disgrace_

_Lied too much  
She said that she's had enough  
Am I too much  
She said that she's had enough_

_Standing on my own  
Remembering the ones I left at home  
Forget about the life I used to know  
Forget about the ones I left at home  
So now I'm standing here alone  
I'm learning how to live life on my own_

_Lied too much  
I think that I've had enough  
Am I too much  
She said that she's had enough_

_I'm standing on my own  
Remembering the ones I left at home  
Forget about the life I used to know  
Forget about the ones I left at home_

_So now I'm standing here alone  
I'm learning how to live life on my own  
Forget about the past I'll never know  
Forget about the ones I left at home_

My stomach growled like a bear. It was hard to lament deeply while you were hallucinating about dancing ham sandwiches. Not that I was hallucinating... This is where I start looking a little suspicious, just so you know.

"You don't have any food on you, do you, Hope?" I asked wearily.

"No," she said frankly, "how could I?"

"Oh, right. No pockets." I laughed weakly, remembering.

Looking to the side of the road, I saw an old, withered, and worn stump. I plunked over to it, and sat down heavily, breathing a sigh. The only things around for what seemed like miles were open, grassy fields, a few scattered bushes and trees and the dirt road.

"What, taking a break already?" She taunted me.

"We've been walking for almost three hours! And I haven't eaten since yesterday — in our own world!" I pointed out.

"Well, there's nothing we can do about that, can we?" Hope countered.

I sat, hunched glumly as I flipped up the clasps on the case with a click, and opened it up. "Maybe there's something here…" I was hoping to find a sandwich or something, but what I found was much better. Hidden beneath the slacks was a small bunch of money. Covered in strange words and symbols, there was a handful of coins and four paper bills. I moved the money aside to find a note.

_Thank you for your help, and good luck on your journey, we have a feeling it's very important. The money's enough for a meal or two and a night's stay at a hotel. _

I clutched the note gratefully to my chest, tears of happiness practically streaming down my face. "Bless them, those wonderful, wonderful people!" I exclaimed.

"What? Did you find food?" Hope asked, sounding bored.

"No, I found money, they gave it to us. We can have a meal and have a good night's sleep at the next town." I replied happily.

"Which is who knows how far away." Hope said, dampening the mood.

"You're so dreary. I can make it now, now that I have something to pick up my spirits. I just needed initiative." I explained.

Hope rolled her eyes. "Let's just keep going."

I hopped off the stump and set off down the road at a fair clip. Hope seemed disappointed at my happier attitude. Emo cat. After traveling for at least two hours more, the sun was setting, and we were coming over the crest of a big hill.

"Hey, look down there." I said to Hope. "It's a town."

"So it is. Finally."

"You'll have to stop being so glum or I might just leave you behind." I threatened lightly.

"You wouldn't have the heart, and you'd be too lonely to bear it without me. And besides, I'm obligated to stay with you."

Stubbornly, I didn't reply. As we descended the hill and approached the town, it was starting to look eerily familiar. "It's Youswell." I said quietly. The industrial feel of the town and the mines and mine carts were just as I had seen them. It was actually a little shocking. The town I'd landed in was unfamiliar, but seeing Youswell reminded me that I was really here.

"You know this town?" Hope asked.

"In a way," I said enigmatically. She gave me a look. I could feel it.

"Let's go, I know of a place where we can get a meal _and _a place to stay. The only thing is, I don't think they allow State Alchemists. Or Animals." I said a little hesitantly. Hope gave a cat-grunt at the animal comment, but all she said was, "and the 'State Alchemist' thing, as you called it, would be a problem how?"

"It might not be a problem at all." I replied.

We went into the town, the last sliver of the sun fast retreating. The streets were practically deserted, and there were lights in widows. I headed towards the inn, but stopped. "We probably shouldn't take any chances about the animal thing."

"Well, what do you propose we do?" She asked, a little snippily, if you ask me.

I hesitated. "Um, would you rather hide inside my coat, or in the suitcase?"

A minute later... "I can't believe I agreed to this. And you better not jostle me around too much!"

"Oh, don't be a baby. Now get in the suitcase." I said cheerily.

I pushed aside the shirts and pants to make room in the middle of the case. Hope hopped in lightly, after a moment's pause. She curled up into a ball in the space, and I closed the suitcase. I tilted it vertically gently, gripping the suitcase by the handle. I walked several paces to the street corner, and turned, coming upon the inn. A large sign over the door proclaimed 'INN - RESTAURANT'. Creative bunch of people here, huh guys?

At the doorstep, I knocked strong and steadily. A din was leaking out from the inside, noises of people talking, moving around, glasses clacking, laughing. The bright smears and flashes of human movement and life were imprinted faintly behind my eyes. Footsteps approached the door, and a tall, muscular man opened it. With the door open, the din turned into a bedlam of sound and movement.

"Well, what have we here?" He said jovially. He exuded an amiable presence. "I assume you're looking for a room?"

"Yes, and a meal, if you don't mind." I said. As if on Que, my stomach growled loudly once.

"Not at all! Come right in! Looks like you've been traveling far." He commented.

"You aren't wrong about that." I reply, smiling wryly.

The man, whom I couldn't remember his name, (all I knew is that he had a son) led me up to a room. I paid him the fare — which was, thankfully, considerably lower than when Edward had come to inspect the coal mines in 'Be Thou For The People'. And I didn't get thrown out, either, I'm happy to say.

"I'll let you get situated here, and then you can come down for a nice hot meal." He said, then departed.

I gingerly placed the suitcase on the bed, opening it with a snap. Hope burst from the case, landing on the bed with an annoyed and relieved sigh. "That wasn't as bad as it could have been. But it could have been better."

"Well, I'm sorry it wasn't first class." I said, with a hint of sarcasm. "Well, I'm heading downstairs for a well deserved meal, I'm starving."

"What about me?" Hope asked, her voice slightly clipped.

"What about you? Oh, don't worry; I'll bring you some food." I assured her. "You don't mind bread or anything like that, right?"

"At this point, I'm not picky."

"I thought so."

After having a hearty meal, and bidding everyone goodnight — and sneaking up remnants of said meal up to Hope — I went back up to my room and slept like a rock. I put my coat on the back of a chair, kicked off my boots and was out like a light, with Hope napping at the foot of the bed.

Strangely enough, I dreamt of falling through the dark. And something red glowing in the darkness beneath me. It was only when I awoke the next morning that I realized what it was. The Ouroburos tattoo all of the Homunculi had on their bodies.

When I woke up, I went to the small bathroom attached to the room, washed my face, and got dressed. Hope was already awake, watching me impassively. I gathered my things, and to Hope's dismay, urged her back into the suitcase.

As I made my way down the stairs, the man who'd shown me my room earlier was standing behind the bar, drying off a glass. "Leaving already?"

"Yeah, I have to get going." I replied.

"Well, see ya, missy. Have a good trip." He waved me off, and I bowed my head, taking my leave out the door.

When I was sure no one was around to see, I let Hope out of the suitcase.

"I hope this doesn't become a habit." She remarked.

"Oh, you can only hope." I said, dropping probably the worst pun encountered yet.

"That was terrible."

"I know."

We made our way out of town, continuing North-West, towards Central. And coincidentally towards East City. (These people needed to come up with more creative names...)

"I really do wonder what year it is here, I mean, if I didn't do this right, Edward could already be in Munich..." I trailed off pensively. "I certainly hope not, it would make things a lot more complicated..."

"What?" Hope asked, confused.

"Well, I guess we'll find out when we reach Central." I said, wavering a little in my certainty.

It was basically the same routine: walk, complain, rest for a bit to massage sore feet, and repeat. And this cycle recurred for several more hours, until we got a welcome break riding in the back of a farm truck headed in our direction. The truck didn't seem too dissimilar to the trucks back home, just an earlier version, like a truck from the 1930's or so. It was painted army green.

"I'm so glad I won't have to walk for a little while." I sighed, relieved. "What a good Samaritan." I laughed then, light-heartedly.

The driver, who was a tanned and weathered-looking farmer, leaned out of the driver's side window back to us sitting in the bed of the truck. "I'm gonna drop you off at the next town here. East City."

"But it isn't where you planned on going." Hope mumbled to me.

"Alright, thanks." I told the farmer.

"Hey, no problem, 'round here, we're always willing to lend a hand." He replied, pulling himself back into the cab of the truck.

I turned the address Hope in a low voice. Over the wind and through the metal and glass of the back of the truck's cab, there was a good chance the farmer couldn't hear us anyway, but I didn't want to seem suspicious. "This works well with my plan. If we go to the East City military headquarters, and ask to speak with, er... someone about someone, and we have no luck on leads there, we head on to Central."

"They probably won't want anything to do with us. We're 'foreign' people, we're technically civilians, and we have little authority in requesting to speak to anyone in the military." Hope said, plucking out the flaws in my plan.

"We'll have to try anyway, won't we?" I asked rhetorically.

"You're incorrigible." She sighed shaking her fuzzy little head.

"Absolutely."

The truck shuddered and choked to a halt. "Ok, here y'are. East City." The farmer said.

"Thanks." I said, hopping down onto the road from the back of the truck. Hope hopped down as well. The truck sputtered to life again and pulled away. Apparently, he'd dropped us off right smack in East City. Certainly didn't take long to get here. I spotted a man in a neat suit walking along on the sidewalk, a newspaper in front of his nose.

I approached him. "Hey there, um, do you mind telling me where the military headquarters is?"

"Sorry, I'm in a hurry." He said, then hastened away.

"That was helpful." I commented, not at all sarcastic, of course. Really. Honest. Hope followed beside me as I continued down the street. I was walking down the suburbs, judging from all the houses around, which I'm sure would be a dead giveaway. I continued, seeing that as I went, more and more shops and establishments were popping up.

'_Now, I think we're getting somewhere...' _

There were quite a few more people now. Standing around, talking; walking; running, and various other things you do while outside and in the city. I spotted an old man sitting at a table on the sidewalk outside of a café.

"Do you know where the military building is?" I asked him, and after my first attempt at asking someone this question, I was a little less hopeful.

"Sure," he said, looking up from a cup of tea, "you head down this street for three more blocks and make a right. It should be on that street there. And what're you going there for? Looking for trouble?"

"Looking for a person, actually," I replied lightly.

"Ah, well good luck then." He bade me.

"Thanks." I said, heading off.

I took the old man's directions, and found them to be true. Three blocks down the street and a right, was the East City Military HQ. I guess hospitality was only in old people and in small towns. Whatever the case, I headed up to the steps of the building. Hope followed me up the stairs, but stayed outside the door. And once I was inside, I looked around for a moment before seeing a reception desk. Seated behind it was an officer clad in the typical blue uniform the military wore.

I turned slightly on my heel, throwing my shoulders back to assume a confident posture. I sauntered toward the desk, stepping lightly, and stopped in front of the desk, he looked up. He was young, just in his twenties or so, I'd say.

"How can I help you, uh, miss?" He asked, swallowing visibly. Wait, he seemed a little twitchy all of a sudden. Perhaps… moi? Oh dear.

I decided to pour on the charm, it might just count here. I rested an elbow on the desk, leaning forward a little, resting my chin on the back of my hand. Taking a page from Edward Cullen's book, I tried to make my eyes look a little smoldery and mysterious. I didn't think I was doing that good of a job, I felt like an idiot, but what else is new? It felt very awkward to try, besides.

"Hi, there, I'm looking for someone." I smiled to him, trying to speak as smooth as possible, a slight lilt in my voice. "Is Lieutenant-Colonel Roy Mustang in the building, by chance?" I held his gaze, feeling embarrassed. Not showing it.

Then he tugged on his collar with an index finger. He actually did. Holy crap, was the smoldery-ness working? "Ah, uh, actually, the Lieutenant-Colonel is in a meeting right now, it might be a while until it's over."

Ok, no need to overdo it. I sighed sadly a little. "Well, could you tell him that he had a visitor? I'll be at the café down the street called 'Marie's' if he'd like to see me."

"O-of course. I'll do that, miss." He said, then nervously shuffled a few papers on the desk.

"Thank you." I purred, feeling ridiculous. I flashed him what I hoped was a winning smile. Amazingly, he blushed. I'm just glad I didn't have something in my teeth.

"It's no trouble. You're welcome." He stuttered.

I turned to leave, leaving him in his flustered state. As I descended the steps I muttered, "that went terribly!"

"Really?" Hope asked, merely curious. "What went wrong?"

"I don't know, nothing really, but that was terrible!" I proclaimed quietly.

"Stop overreacting." She rolled her eyes.

Meanwhile, back inside the military building - and I can tell you about this and not know about it myself at the time because I'm cool like that -

"Whew, that was something!" The officer sighed, slumping a little in his chair. "That girl… wow. Just what was that about her? I'm not going to waste any time, I'll call him right now. He might be at his desk."

The young man picked up the receiver of the phone that sat on his desk. Putting in the number, he waited as the phone rang. He waited for a few rings, and was about to hang up when he heard a man pick up and say: "Hello? Who's there?"

"Lieutenant-Colonel, you just had someone come in asking for you a few minutes ago." The officer explained.

"I just got back from the meeting, but I have some time now. Tell me about the visitor." Roy demanded, all business.

"Well, it was a young woman, and she said she was looking for someone, and asked to see you, sir. I didn't get a name."

"Do you know where she might be now?"

"She said if you'd like to meet her, she'd be in Marie's down the street." The officer offered.

"Thanks. Oh, and one more thing," Roy added.

"What is it, sir?"

"Was she attractive?" Roy's voice asked from the receiver.

The officer sat straight as a board in his chair, blinking several times. "S-sir! Uhm... well, yes. And she seemed like a very interesting person."

"You know where I'll be then." And the line went dead.

The officer sighed at his zany superior, hanging up the phone. "I have no idea what goes through his head sometimes..."

Now enough of this silly third-person-omniscient narrating.

"Do you think he'll be here?" I asked under my breath. Hope was sitting in my suitcase, which was unclasped, and cracked open about an inch. I was sitting at a table with three chairs, huddled in a secluded corner of Marie's café. The briefcase was flat on its side on the chair next to me, the last was across the table from me.

Water was free at the café, so you can guess what I had been sucking down for the past fifteen minutes. My mouth was just so dry. I was guzzling glass after glass — of water — much to the chagrin of the waitress on staff at the time. But my mouth would just get dry again. I eventually stopped drinking the water. Maybe there was something in it making my mouth dry... I eyed the water in the glass suspiciously.

"I can't say for sure if he'll come or not, but I think there's a good chance." Hope mumbled quietly.

"Well, I just..." I trailed off as the waitress passed by, giving me a freaky look. I sat up straight, smiling conspicuously. I fiddled with the rim of my empty glass.

She continued walking. I sighed. The door opened with a merry jingle. It made my foul mood worse. I looked up, curious, and I brought the glass to my lips to take a sip of water and spit it out, but then I remembered there wasn't any water left, so I put the glass down and stared in wide-eyed shock.

It was a guy wearing the biggest had I'd ever seen. I swear, this guy had to struggle to fit it through the doorway. Mind you, that doorway was pretty small itself, but that was one big freaking hat. You all thought it was Roy, didn't you? Well, he hasn't shown up yet, so keep your pants on. Please. I'm betting some of you even thought it was Edward, weren't you? He's not supposed to show up yet! So be patient! Jeez...

"Hannah... Hannah! Wake up! Stop daydreaming." Hope chastised me from her spot in the suitcase.

"Huh?" My head had been resting on the edge of the table. Had I dreamt the entire big-hatted-man sequence?

I look to my far left, and in a distant corner of the shop, talking to the waitress... was the guy with the massive hat. _'Oh, so I didn't dream about that...'_ I laughed weakly to myself.

"Pay attention!" Hope hissed at me, before pulling the lid down from the inside, so that the two parts of the clasps clinked, just touching, not fully closed. "I hear another person coming in! Use your head and your senses, foolish girl!"

I glanced up, still wanting to complain about being called foolish. And yes, _now _it was Roy Mustang coming through the door. I jolted upright in my chair, taut as a guitar string. He wasn't wearing an eye patch, so that was a good sign that this was before Edward crossed the Gate —which happened at the end of the series (I just probably ruined it for some FMA fan who has yet to see the end. Good thing they can't make it here...heh heh heh, suckers). He was scanning the room, looking for anyone who he thought looked like the person who'd asked to see him. Don't know what he was imagining but I bet it was based on what the officer at the front desk told him. I wondered what he had said about me. Finally his eyes, after skeptically skimming over the guy with the big hat, found me sitting in the secluded corner of the café. He arched one eyebrow in a way that made my knees weak.

I waved him over discreetly, with the classic, badass-cool, two-finger-curl 'come here' wave deal, slipping in a discreet smile. _'Oh shit, oh shit, he's coming this way, what do I do? Ah! Did I just, wave him over?_'

On the inside, I was flat-out wigging. I worked hard to look calm. Was it working? Well, I couldn't particularly tell... What was going on with me? I'm not usually this provocative - I'm not usually provocative _at all. _What was this word DOING to me?

'_Ok, breathe. In, out. Good. Calm,'_ I instructed myself. The rising panic I felt was quelled.

Roy was wearing a casual overcoat, a collared white shirt, and slacks. _'That's a pretty nice jacket...'_ I thought, eyeing it briefly. Walked over, the air of quiet confidence surrounding him and took the seat across the table from me.

"Glad you could take the time to come here." I said, my voice low, conversational. _'Oh my FREAKING GODS, IT'S ROY MUSTANG!'_

"You're the one who came to see me, I assume?" He asked me, trying to be businesslike, I could see, but still acting casual.

"Of course." I answered.

"Roy Mustang." He introduced himself, holding out a hand across the table. "And you are?"

I took his hand, shaking it. He didn't wear gloves, and his hands had the grasp of a soldier; strong, confident. How sexy…. -focus! "Clarissa Tailor," I fixed him in a low-lidded gaze, then mentally kicked myself (again). I answered using an old alias of mine. How and when and why did I need it? Now's not the time to explain. Maybe later.

He let go of my hand. He cleared his throat. "So what is this charming little get-together about? Fleming told me a young woman had come to see me about someone she was looking for."

"Yes, well," I began; I could feel Hope staring at me from the minuscule gap of the suitcase. I think I was starting to perspire slightly. "I'm actually looking for someone who works under you. A State Alchemist, in fact."

Roy Mustang raised his eyebrows in intrigue and surprise. "Ah." Was all he said; in a low voice.

"The Fullmetal Alchemist, Mr., ah..." I pressed, trailing off.

"Call me Roy." Mustang offered.

I smiled my thanks. "Roy." A thrill rolled up my spine, feeling his name on my tongue. '_Stupid teenage-girl hormones… down girl, down!_'

"Well, first, you don't mind if I inquire as to why you're looking for Fullmetal, do you?" He asked pleasantly, but wary.

'_Crap. I didn't think this far... Um...'_

"I have important information," I said, then my voice dropped to a whisper, "about the military, and," I paused for dramatic effect, and Roy leaned in to hear, his face a little shocked and apprehensive, "about the Philosopher's Stone."

Roy leaned back in his chair, his face looking white, expression serious with a touch of skepticism. "Are you positive about what you think?"

"I haven't a single doubt in my mind." I whispered. "There's something corrupted that's infiltrated the Military, even all the way to the top."

"You can't be serious." He said darkly, frowning I could almost hear him thinking, _'I thought so!'_ Small beads of sweat were forming on his brow. "Tell me everything."

"I'd rather speak of it in a less public place, and with Edward Elric present, this concerns him as well." I said.

Suddenly, there was a shuffling sound coming from my suitcase. Roy and I both turned our heads to the chair. He blinked, and I began to sweat nervously.

"What was that—" he began.

"Nothing!" I cut him off with suspicious quickness. I smiled too innocently, anime-sweating profusely.

He looked up at me, raising his eyebrows suspiciously. I sighed, caught. I grabbed the lid of the suitcase, lifting it up six inches or so. Hope's head popped out, and she mewed cutely, but quietly.

Roy suddenly started laughing. "I see. You have a friend. You remind me of someone…Well, I don't suppose they welcome animals inside here. I think we should go elsewhere. To my office?"

"Right," I nodded. I turned to Hope, smiling sweetly. Falsely. "You ready to go, kitty?"

For a moment, while Roy wasn't looking, Hope gave me a really dirty look, then, when he was in visual range again, she mewed in accordance.

"Smart cat," He commented quietly.

I snapped the case shut, tilting it carefully upright, then taking it by the handle. "She's a regular genius." I said, half-jokingly. As we made our way to the door, the waitress gave me a dirty look. _'Cheapskate.' _I could practically hear her thinking. That's what you get for ordering just waters and talking to your suitcase. I sighed.

"Any particular reason you brought a cat into the café?" Roy asked me casually. Trying to make small talk, I supposed.

"Well, I couldn't leave her outside on the street could I?" I asked, my toned tinged with innocence, but with a hint of mischievous amusement_. 'Even though she'd probably be able to fend for herself very well…'_

"I guess you're right." He stifled a laugh, "but carrying one in a suitcase…" again he raised an eyebrow, sending a fleeting thrill of excitement down my spine again. Damn him, the smooth ladies' man…

When we were far enough away from the café, and when no one was watching, I quickly opened the suitcase and Hope regally emerged. I snapped it shut and continued walking with her by my side. Hope, I'm sure, was thinking, _'I thought you said this wasn't going to become a habit?' _

"Mind explaining why you travel with a cat?" Roy continued.

I shrugged. "Good traveling buddy." I said jokingly at first then continued. "Well, I couldn't exactly stop her from coming with me. And plus, she needed to come with me, I really didn't have a choice, I'm stuck with her."

"How so?"

"It's complicated." I thwarted his question.

"It couldn't possibly be that complicated." He protested effortlessly.

"Actually, yes, maybe I'll explain later, but now is not the right time." I replied.

He knitted his eyebrows thoughtfully, but didn't say anything else on the matter. "You're quite something, Ms. Tailor."

"So I've heard." I smiled wryly.


	3. Butterflies and Hurricanes

What I Bargained For

Part Three: Butterflies and Hurricanes

_Change,  
Everything you are  
And everything you were  
Your number has been called  
Fights, battles have begun  
Revenge will surely come  
Your hard times are ahead _

_Best,  
You've got to be the best  
You've got to change the world  
And you use this chance to be heard  
Your time is now_

_Change,  
Everything you are  
And everything you were  
Your number has been called  
Fights and battles have begun  
Revenge will surely come  
Your hard times are ahead_

_Best,  
You've got to be the best  
You've got to change the world  
And you use this chance to be heard  
Your time is now_

_Don't,  
Let yourself down  
Don't let yourself go  
Your last chance has arrived_

_Best,  
You've got to be the best  
You've got to change the world  
And you use this chance to be heard  
Your time is now _

"As it turns out, Fullmetal's in Central, so I guess we're taking a train there." Mustang had explained to me.

Several hours later...

Silence hung like a lead curtain.

Roy sat in on the seat across from mine with his arm folded over his chest loosely, looking out the window on the far side of the train car, his thoughts seemed miles away. I looked out the one I sat next to, to my right. It had been like this since we got on the train. I sensed that Roy had many questions for me, but kept silent, pondering to himself. I sat with my left leg crossed my right, my hands rested in my lap, fingers interwoven. I studied Roy carefully, my eyes roaming over his face, then down his upper body, taking in his posture, studying it. My inspection paused around his lower torso, thoughtfully; perhaps sensing my gaze, me looked to me and met my eyes. I smiled back demurely and quickly looked away, feeling a blush dust my cheeks. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw him smile.

Hope was sleeping on the seat next to me. We smuggled her on, like always.

"So, Ms. Tailor—" Roy began, still looking out his window.

"Call me Clarissa." I amended him.

He turned his head, looking at me with a look of slight surprise, which turned into an 'of course' mixed with a 'hell, why not?' smile; a smile that made my stomach do a little flip. "Clarissa, do you have any family?"

"Not really, just my mother, but she lives... far away." I said. Well, it was true in a way; a different reality was as far away as you could get, I suppose.

"I see." He replied shortly. There were no other passengers on the car, making the silences absolute save for the sound of the train moving over the tracks clamorously.

He was silent for a minute, so it took me by surprise when he started talking again suddenly. "Is that the only reason why you came? Because you discovered this information about the Stone and the dissent in the military?"

"Well, I can't say I don't have ulterior personal motives," I paused, unable stop myself from giving him a sly smile, "but it's mainly because I want to make a difference, to _do _something. I'm tired of being on the outside looking in." The smile dropped, and I wore an expression of quiet determination.

"Those sound like personal reasons to me." Roy observed, smirking.

"Well, that won't matter if I make a positive impact on the outcome, does it?" I smiled back vivaciously, my tone a little hasty in return.

"I suppose that's—" He began, but then, a clamor arose from the car ahead. It appeared to be screams and several gunshots.

We rushed from our seats to the door. Pulling it open, fighting the air current, we make our way to the back door of the train car in front of us, jumping the spot where the two cars hitched together. The wind whipped my hair into a frenzy around my head, and it was surely getting in Mustang's way, being as long as it was. And besides, there wasn't much room.

Suddenly, my foot slipped off the edge of the small platform, and I began to fall backwards. An arm caught me, and it, of course, belonged to Mustang. I clung to the front of his clothes to secure myself further, having been reminded that falling from this train would most likely cause my instant and painful death. He pulled me back onto the small platform, our bodies pressed close, close enough that I could feel his chest touch mine with each breath he took. This sensation made my body flush with warmth. Those foolish adolescent-female hormones again. His arm then released its hold around my waist, but hovered near in case of another stumble.

He looked down at me, and flashed me a sly smile. "Watch your step." He warned me belatedly.

"Thanks." I said, tilting my head up to meet his gaze. I looked away when I realized I was blushing. I tried to force the blush away and focus on the crisis at hand. The action that I craved had just dropped at my feet, specially wrapped.

We peered through the small window in the door, barely enough room for both of us to look through at the same time. We saw two, maybe three men in the car, each brandishing a gun. The shots had thankfully been aimed at the roof to obtain attention, missing passengers.

"What the hell is this?" I ask angrily, indignant. Just what I needed, a train-jacking. Why in the hell did train-oriented criminal activity happen so damn much here? Gah!

"I think it's a train robbery." Roy said darkly, his eyes narrowing.

"Well that's just great!" I growled. "I suppose something must be done."

"You're right. Wait in the other car, I'll deal with them." Roy said, pulling on his ignition-cloth gloves.

"There's no way! If you're going in there, I'm coming with you! And besides, you could set things —or people— on fire! The car's too cramped for the use of fire." I protested.

"And what can you do?" He challenged me.

"I'm an alchemist as well." Actually, I'm not exactly an alchemist, but it's better if you think so, but you don't need to know that.

"Really…" Roy stated, sounding a little doubtful, but he sighed, relenting. "All right. We'll both go."

"Look, their backs are turned." I said, and he was instantly alert, his military training kicking in.

"Ok, now!"

We burst in through the door, and before they could turn around fully, I landed a powerful kick in the face of the robber nearest me – my poor hamstrings! - and he dropped to the floor, out cold.

Well, that was easier than I expected.

Roy's fist collided with the side of one's head, also incapacitating his opponent. The third turned in shock. He raised his gun, and Mustang rushed forward to stop him but I could see he wasn't going to make it. I clapped my hands together, and supposed "alchemic energy" lanced from my hands. The man pulled the trigger, but by the time the bullet left the gun, it was trapped in the wave of electricity and turned to metallic dust. The energy continued forward, engulfing the gun, making the man recoil in shock as it disintegrated as well.

Shaking in fear, the criminal turned and ran for the exit at the front of the car. Roy Mustang raced after him with the swiftness of his namesake and landed a blow with the edge of his left hand against the back of the felon's neck, effectively knocking him out.

I sighed, relieved. The ordeal was over in barely a few minutes, but it really got your adrenaline going. Hey, I was new to this whole, 'beat up the bad guys and save the innocents' thing. I'd definitely need more practice, but not bad for my first bust, especially with the back-up I had, I could still hardly believe it: Roy - Freakin' - Mustang! AH!

"So you _are_ an alchemist," Roy said to me. A little surprised, a little taken aback. A little relieved. Makes two of us.

The stunned passengers looked up at us in amazement. We tied up the criminals, just in case, and Roy phoned Central HQ from the train's telecommunications room in the front car, and informed them of the situation, told them to ready a few jail cells. Turns out, these three were wanted for several other robberies of the sort. After all the commotion, we returned to our car, but took the captive felons with us. Let's just say it wasn't easy. Like Maes Hughes once said, 'there's an art to train walking.'

"Well, I've gotta hand it to you, that wasn't what I was expecting from you." He appraised me with his keen, dark eyes. He smirked crookedly. "And you did alchemy without a circle."

I swallowed, I could feel my cheeks flushing slightly, but not with embarrassment. "Well, you see, it's a talent of mine." I smiled nervously.

"I see, or rather, I saw." Roy replied. The smile was still there, but his eyes were studying me carefully, calculations hidden behind onyx irises.

The train screeched to a halt, and I looked out the window to see we were at the Central Train station. And outside of our particular train were a few uniformed officers waiting to take the felons to jail. The officers filed into our train car, what with there being a door to the side of the car as well. They pulled them to their feet and dragged them from the train into waiting cars. Mustang followed them out with his attaché case or whatever it was that he was carrying around with him, and I followed him, carrying my own suitcase with Hope tucked away inside. She was really starting to hate me for this. I'd have to watch out for her later. The little bugger wasn't declawed, to my infinite chagrin.

Out on the platform, we were greeted by an unfamiliar officer, who led us to a car. The officer looked at me with dry surprise, and a hint of suspicion; I'm sure it was strange to see the Colonel dragging around a civilian, a young woman with a suitcase at that.

Mustang nodded by way of a greeting to the officer, then leaned forward and murmured something I couldn't hear to the officer and the wary look eased from his face, replaced by a very military frowny-face. He opened the passenger-side door for me with an ironic smile. I was slightly taken aback by the gesture; it was an old-fashioned gesture that didn't happen too often where Edward Cullen wasn't concerned, being all gentlemanly and traditional.

Roy proceeded around the car and climbed into the driver's side of the car, so I assumed the soldier wasn't coming with us. I eased myself into the passenger's side and shut the door behind me. I was about to reach over my right shoulder, out of habit, when I saw there were no seat belts. Nice. I'll be overjoyed when we're in a head-on collision and I go flying through the windshield. That'll just make my day. I gently placed my suitcase on my lap, snapped it open and let Hope out. I closed the case shut and put it on the floor behind the front seat. She gave me a dirty look that Mustang couldn't see and settled onto my lap. I'd definitely be in for it later on.

We rode in silence for a while. These awkward silences were getting on my nerves. I turned my head slightly, and out of the corner of my eye, I caught Roy's expression; he seemed to be thinking about something.

The thought amused him, apparently, because he gave a small chuckle. I was about to ask what he thought was so funny when he said, "so you have 'ulterior motives', do you? I'll remember that."

I scowled at him. I suspected that there must have been a flush to my cheeks, so I turned my head to look back out the window, just in case. If he wasn't in the military—as I'm sure I'd get the capital punishment — and if he wasn't Roy Mustang, I'd pummel him, perhaps to death, if necessary. Hell, even though he was, it might stop me from trying. But I'd probably get very annihilated in the attempt. Best not to try it. And while this little ramble was taking place, we'd arrived at Central HQ. Kills time, doesn't it? Handy thing... Little bit scary though, talking to myself... Speaking of Central, I wondered how Roy got the permission, or clearance or whatever to just leave East City HQ and come here; he may be the legendary Colonel Roy Mustang, but he wasn't top dog in military authority. But somehow, I wouldn't put it past him to just take off on a whim…

We made our way from the car, Hope trailed beside me, refusing to go back in the suitcase. She didn't need to anyway. I didn't think they frowned upon animals in the building, so she was fine. Spiteful little thing, sheesh.

When we were inside the military complex, the sheer size of the area nearly took the wind out of me; Central Military Headquarters must have taken up at least three city blocks. _Huge_.

We made our way into one of the smaller buildings — even though it was still pretty big — and I learned that this building had offices, a library, reference rooms, and the like. I think the upper floor had sleeping quarters, I'd seen this building in the show, in fact... it was this very building that Edward snuck out of and went to Lab 5. If I was here now at around that time... that meant Scar would also be here, breaking in and rampaging through one of the first floor library, if I remember correctly, which I'm sure I've missed some major detail somewhere.

We came to an office at the end of a hall. Entering it behind Mustang, I realized this was the office he had before his transfer to East City. There were two leather couches on either side of a low stained-wood coffee table, all three pieces of furniture were perpendicular to the door, and a large desk near the far wall, in front of a window. Just as I remembered it. Just how did he manage to set this all up if he was transferred to East?

"It was unoccupied, so they lent it to me for my time here." He explained, as if reading my mind. And I thought I was the freaky one here. "There are sleeping quarters on the upper floor. Given the current circumstance that you currently have nowhere to stay and - I'm sure – have limited funds," he paused to lift an eyebrow, as if asking it of me, "you can stay here for the meantime."

Aha! I thought it had rooms; it _was_ the building. _'Holy crap, what have I gotten myself into?'_

"My, that's very generous of you, sir," giving him an unruly curtsy. I then draped myself casually over one of the leather couches, making myself at home. I left my briefcase at my feet and Hope jumped up on to the couch and sat down next to me. Roy gave me a brief look, laced with secretive enjoyment, but didn't say anything.

"I sent someone to the main library to retrieve Fullmetal. He's doing a bit of research. He'll be here soon." Roy looked bemused at something. I frowned at the thought of what it might be. "Afterwards, you can find a room in the sleeping quarters, as you don't you have much of a choice of staying elsewhere, miss." A direct dig at me.

"Oh, in fact I was thinking of checking into that luxury hotel we passed by on the way here, perhaps even stay there indefinitely." I said wryly, trying to keep my tone from sounding _too_ sarcastic.

"If I didn't know any better," Roy mused, clearly getting what he wanted, "I'd say you were being sarcastic."

"Hmm, you think?" I asked, trying to arch an eyebrow contemplatively, adding some feistiness.

"You're lucky you don't work for me." Roy laughed darkly.

"I'm sure Mr. Elric gives you a fair bit of lip now and again." I pointed out.

"True..." He said, resting his chin between his thumb and forefinger thoughtfully. "Although Mr. is a bit of a stretch. He's still a kid."

"Yeah, that's true. He's… what? Sixteen years old?" I asked rhetorically, though I knew his age for certain.

"And you're how old?" Roy asked me, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, same age, but from what I hear, he's very short..." I trailed off as I heard footsteps at the open door. I didn't turn to look purposely before the person spoke.

"And who are you saying is short?" He asked, frowning. Oh sweet merciful goodness!

I turned and stood — nearly falling off the couch — with a little squeaky gasp. Very smooth. Borderline suave, indeed. Any sleek façade I had tried to uphold crumbled away at that very moment. Why? Because I was caught off-guard? Heart palpitations? Shock? All of it? Probably.

"Uh, um — my cousin! He's a very short twelve-year old." I smiled innocently, laughing a little, rubbing the back of my neck nervously. I recalled that earlier I told Roy I didn't have family besides my mother, but thankfully the alchemist kept his mouth shut, but only barely; he appeared to be trying very hard not to laugh at the present display.

IT WAS HIM! EDWARD — FREAKING — ELRIC! Heart-attack anyone? Order up! One serving of cardiac arrest with a side of spazz! (Insert internal major debilitating heart failure here.) _ 'THIS IS UNREAL! OH MY FREAKING HELLS!'_

"Brother, stop being paranoid." Al chastised like the adorable little brother whose soul was trapped in a suit of armor that he was. Bless him, the dear boy.

He shut the office door behind himself.

'_Oh no, I'm trapped in a room, I'm trapped in a room, I'm trapped in a room_— _WITH EDWARD ELRIC, ALPHONSE, AND ROY MUSTANG! Heart, don't give up on me now!' _

I was practically quaking with the effort to control myself, and I was finally able to slip down into that calm, cool part of my head, snuffing out the panicked thoughts that had been churning in my head. I sucked in a small breath, trying to outwardly compose myself, but a little quiver escaped me. I had to stay calm, collected. _Maintain. _

Apparently no one had noticed my flip-out; I'd kept a straight face, I hoped.

Edward's attention was quickly redirected to Mustang. "Now, what did you call me here? And who's this?" He asked Roy, jerking a thumb at me.

Roy spoke up then. "This is Clarissa Tailor," I offered my hand to Edward, smiling pleasantly, hoping I wasn't blushing like a maniac. He took it, shook it, then our fingers parted. _'Wait —was that a hint of red on his cheeks? No! It couldn't be... But...' _I thought. Roy continued, not missing a beat, "and she has important information concerning the Philosopher's Stone and," his voice hushed and he coughed, looking displeased, "the military."

Edward regarded me curiously. "Hmm. Ever heard of a Tim Marcoh?"

"Yes, I have," I answered after a moment's thought, "he was formerly a soldier in the military, a State Alchemist with the title of Crimson Alchemist and during the Ishbalan War he created pseudo-Philosopher's Stones for the military's use against the Ishbalans. Before the end of the war, he fled and had never been heard from or seen since, or so it's said."

Edward blinked, twice, clearly surprised. "Huh, you know quite a bit don't you?" He eyed me peculiarly, making me feel like a specimen under a microscope.

"More like a fairly sizeable chunk, but yeah, I know." I amended solemnly, trying to make a joke. I tried for a tentative smile, and his expression eased.

"Is this your cat?" Al asked me suddenly.

"Well, it isn't _his_," I said, jerking a thumb at Roy. "Her name is Hope."

Hope shot me a resentful glare as Al picked her up and petted her along her back. "She's adorable."

"I wish I could say she's a little fuzzy angel, but I don't like to lie," I sent a sly smirk to Hope, who returned a murderous expression.

Edward pointed at Hope, mouth slightly open. "Did that cat look at you—"

I cut him off hastily. "No." I smiled widely, but it just made me look more suspicious.

Several eyebrows rose at me, I swear I was sweating from the awkward tension. Profusely. Edward had taken a seat on the couch across from me. Roy sat as his (former) desk; I could sense apprehension from him. Alphonse stood.

"What else do you know?" Edward asked me, his eyes seemingly studying my face.

I think I was blushing, because my cheeks felt flushed, but I hoped otherwise. "I know a lot — I'm pretty sure— about the Stone. And there's... a traitor, in the military. High up," I had lowered my voice. It felt ominous, speaking at normal volume, then suddenly hushing, as if the walls themselves were listening. It incited paranoia.

"So you know how a stone is made?" Edward questioned me further. I could see he was testing me; he obviously had figured out from Marcoh's notes already that stones required human souls to be made. I wondered then if things would play out _very_ differently from how they should and would have.

"Yes," I said, then hesitated. If I revealed all that I knew, they'd immediately suspect something, something bad. I needed to be careful with my information. "The main, and key, ingredient in making a Philosopher's Stone, is... human beings."

Roy remained silent, but I could see his expression hardening from the corner of my eye.

Edward's eyes widened and he leaned back, resting against the couch. "So you do know." He murmured. A grave and thoughtful frown overtook his features.

"I know a lot. It's a lot to take." I commented, my voice low as well. "It certainly isn't easy."

"Why are you coming forward with all of this?" He asked me.

"I couldn't stay silent, knowing what I know. I wanted to help somehow, make a difference. I wanted to help." I offered; to my ears, it sounded almost like a plea. A high, desperate note tucked in.

"And not to mention her _ulterior motives_," Roy added, smiling darkly at his desk, instantly diffusing the mood.

"'Ulterior motives'?" Edward echoed, looking from me to Mustang.

I turned sharply and glared at him, a warning in my eyes. Roy snickered. I stood, scarily calm, my gaze on him took on a lofty hint, but there was a slight threat in the posture.

"Easy there," he laughed, making a 'calm down' motion with both of his hands. "I was kidding. It's a first-class felony to murder an officer on duty." He spoke easily, unperturbed, even entertained by my reaction.

I huffed, crossing my arms and flumping down onto the couch again. Stupid Flame Alchemist.

"What was that about?" Edward still looked puzzled.

"Nothing, just a little joke..." Roy looked slyly in my direction.

We heard Al cry out, and we looked to see Hope leaping from his metallic arms, stealing over to my couch and perching by my side regally.

"Sorry, she's not very affectionate." I apologized, mussing Hope's hair firmly. She growled a bit, but didn't say anything, though I could see how badly she wanted to blurt out ranting. Exactly what, I didn't know.

"Oh well," Al sighed.

Roy took out his watch, checking the time. It caught my attention. "It's pretty late, kids."

"We're not kids!" Edward and I protested at the same time, we looked at each other in surprise. I was almost certain I saw blush on his cheeks this time. And I was definitely red. I could feel it. I was relating with Bella about the whole blushing thing. Sometimes it's very inconvenient. Damn those involuntary bodily reactions.

"You should all get sleep." Roy continued. "The rooms are upstairs, to the left, and rooms seven and five are empty."

"You know," I began, hefting my suitcase over my shoulder, "you'd make a good hotel manager." I smiled crookedly.

Roy massaged his temples with one hand, as if we were giving him a headache — I for one, would not be surprised — and waved us away with the other. "Go, go." He said tiredly, sighing.

"By your leave then, _sir._" I said, giving Roy a falsely obedient, slightly sarcastic bow. "Come on, Hope." I added, a little chipper, as I turned to leave. I exited the room, and I stole a glance at Edward and Alphonse, who were coming out of the room behind me.

Edward had his hands in his pockets, eyes down as he seemed to ponder something. Then, as if sensing that someone was looking at him, he looked up and caught my gaze. I wasn't sure how he'd react, but I tried for a slightly playful smile with a possibly flirtatious tilt to my lips (going for emotionally broke) and walked with a smooth — which was not so effortless to do — walk, taking special care not to trip or anything embarrassing along those lines, towards the stairs that were around the corner where Roy said they'd be. I'm just glad I didn't trip walking away. It's just as well. I tripped going up the stairs, giving myself a nice, fat cut on my forearm from the edge of a step. I could sympathize with anyone who falls down these stairs, they're freaking deadly.

Hope eyed me critically, not trusting her surroundings enough at the moment not to be overheard. She'd definitely have something to say when we got to the room. I reached the top of the stairs, turned left like Mustang instructed and was looking down a hall lined sparsely with doors and a few numbers stuck onto the doors, as if an afterthought: 'Hey, maybe we should number the rooms and be organized! I keep barging into the wrong room all the time!' It wouldn't have surprised me. I stopped between the doors labeled five and seven. Seven had always been one of my favorite numbers...

I heard Edward and Alphonse ascend the stairs. For all the metal they carried — Edward's arm and leg, and Al's entire armor body — they made surprisingly little noise, but with a few extra talents that tipped the scales slightly in my favor it wasn't hard for me to tell where they were, even if blindfolded and deaf. I looked at them out of the corner of my eye, and I could have sworn I saw Ed redden a little. I looked back to the doors. I decided five was a good number. It was closer.

"Looks like you have lucky number seven all to yourself, boys," I said amiably. "Night." I waved to them quickly before I opened the door and let Hope proceed first into the room.

I saw Edward was about to speak, and I freaked out — just a little — and rushed into the room, closing the door with a click. I rested my back against it, as if to hold someone out (maybe Edward, but that would go against my moral fiber, or immoral fiber, not sure how that works out). I realized I hadn't been breathing, so I took a deep breath, and exhaled. I dropped my suitcase on the floor to the side of the door.

Oh joy, I just slammed my door in the face of Edward Elric — an Edward Elric who wanted to actually say something to me that most likely was not belittling — ha! You see what I did there? _Belittling_? I'm a regular comedian— and I just slammed a door, well, not IN his face, he was standing a few good paces away, but still, the principle is applicable. Damn it.

"There are very many things I'd like to say to you—" Hope began. If she wasn't planning on just talking, I was prepared to duck. Watch out, kitty missile!

I cut her off. "We'll have time for that later, I have to go apologize for shutting the door on Edward." I scurried out of the room and shut the door behind me.

I hurried to door number seven and tapped meekly. I'll admit I was a little surprised they bothered to answer. Footsteps came to the door and the latch clicked, the door swinging inwards to reveal Edward.

"Sorry about that back there, I was just, um, you see, Hope was — I was just a little r—" I was tripping over my tongue feeling more than slightly mortified.

Edward chuckled, making me stop. "I was wondering if you'd come, I didn't exactly say much. I want to talk with you, without the Colonel hovering around."

"Oh." I said simply. Edward let me in and he closed the door and went to sit to the left of a coffee table — covered in papers and pictures and maps — in an armchair. Clearly they'd already claimed this room, good thing I chose 5. Roy neglected to mention it, the bugger. Alphonse was directly across from me beyond the table on a sofa. The seat left was on the right, also an armchair. I took a seat. What was this about? I mean, I had a few ideas, but why did Edward want to talk with me without Mustang around? Like I said, I had a few ideas… Not all of them were pure-minded. _'Bad girl, no! Behave!'_

"I heard Mustang mention something about ulterior motives." Edward said thoughtfully. "I was wondering what he meant."

'_Dammit, Roy, I'm going to kill you!' _I fumed internally. It was a battle to keep my emotions from showing on my face.

"Meaning," Edward began again, smiling devilishly, leaning forward his fingers were interlaced, and his elbows rested on the arms of his chair, "that you came here for reasons besides the ones you told us. I'm curious."

I groaned, unable to help myself, slumping in my chair. "Are you _that_ curious?" I thought I heard a low laugh.

"We just would really like to know." Alphonse offered.

"Blame Mustang," Ed said, I imagined he was shrugging, yet still amused. I couldn't quite tell at that moment, my head was bent down shamefully.

"I _do _blame Mustang. I don't exactly have a mantel, but when I find one, his head will be perfect for it." I said sinisterly. I'd enjoy that. Roy-hunting season. Ha-ha.

"Now, what exactly were we talking about?" Edward just _had _to be the sensible one and bring us back on topic.

"Alright," I sighed, "I'll tell you."

There was a pause as they waited. I began. "I came here because..."

They leaned forward slightly in anticipation.

"Because... I couldn't possibly have gone on living without trying Central's famous coffee!"

They looked at me seriously. I sighed, giving up, lowering my head. "Alright, the real reason I came here was..." I looked up at them, "to meet you two."

They looked a little taken aback, surprised. "I'd heard a lot about you two, traveling alchemist brothers doing good for the common man, men among the dogs of the military. I just had to meet you." It wasn't entirely a lie. "I'd heard stories of your considerable status as a State Alchemist... if not stature." I added slyly.

Edward jumped up, scowling. "Are you saying I'm short?"

Alphonse looked a little alarmed, about to reprimand his brother, when I sat back in my chair, laughing. Edward continued to fume.

"So, your temper _is _as short as your height." I was getting pains in my sides. I stood, still holding myself around the middle.

"You wanna make something of it!" Edward demanded, and Al grabbed him around the arms to hold him back.

"You're just too cute!" I proclaimed, patting his cheek.

He stopped dead, ceasing his thrashing, going red. He blinked, staring at me. I smiled dazzlingly at him, still stifling laughs. I secretly studied the papers spread out on the table from under my lashes. So they were planning on going to lab five tonight? I couldn't very well let them walk right into the hands of danger, could I? Well, I could, but not without keeping an eye on them. I'd have to follow them when they snuck out. It really was the only way, don't you agree? Ok, so I might be doing it for a few selfish reasons, but I do have a few good, _un_selfish ones too!

"Clarissa?" I heard Al call my pseudonym. I blinked, returning to the here-and-now. I realized I'd been staring off in space.

"Glad to see you've come back to the present. You seemed out of it for a minute there, what was on your mind?" Edward prodded.

"Oh, it was nothing," I gave a weak smile, trying to convince them.

"Nah, I think it _was _something. Are you gonna tell us?" Edward encouraged, smiling persuasively.

"Why are you so curious all of a sudden?" I countered.

With each of us standing at our full heights, I was three inches taller than Ed. I don't know why that had to suddenly come to mind right then, but it did. I put my palm flat across the top of my head. Edward stopped, observing me blankly. I moved my hand in front of me, keeping it level with where the top of my head was. It stopped over Edward's head, four inches up. He scowled at me, and it was quiet for a second before I burst into fresh laughter. It seemed my panicked state from before had permanently evaporated; I'd acclimatized myself.

"Why the hell does everyone always have to point out my height!" Edward ranted.

"It's one of your most significant qualities!" I giggled, yes, giggled. "If you'd just drink milk once in a while, maybe you'd be a little taller, but no, you're so stubborn!" Even as the words left my lips, I realized my blunder.

"I can't STAND—" He began, then stopped, coming to what seemed to be an unexpected and foreboding conclusion. He fixed me with a serious gaze. Alphonse remained silent, and being a suit of armor, he didn't have an expression to read. I'd hinted that I knew something that an ordinary person in my situation wouldn't normally know. If I _was _just some girl that had found out some useful information, how could I know something that wasn't widely known to people in my position? Something so personal? I couldn't. Suspicious, suspicious, suspicious. I'd made a mistake, let slip personal information; stupid girl.

"How did you know I don't like milk?" He asked, wary.

At first I was at a loss for words. "It was a guess," I said unconvincingly. _'Lame answer, much?'_ Damn it all, how could I slip up like that?

"That's not possible, it's not something that any old schmoe would know of." Edward persisted. "Who told you? Have you been told anything else?"

"Brother," Al began.

"Tell me, how did you come to know all of this information?" Edward asked, his voice eerily quiet.

"Well, if you think it was the Homunculi who told me, you're wrong." I countered, an edge of fierceness to my voice.

"How do you know about the Homunculi?" The brothers asked in tandem.

I sighed, massaging my temples. I collapsed back into the chair. _'I guess there's no way around it.'_ "All right. I'll tell you." I said quietly. "I'm..."


	4. Follow

What I Bargained For

Part Four: Follow

_I'm losing sight  
Don't count on me  
I chase the sun  
It chases me _

You know my name  
You know my face  
You'd know my heart  
If you knew my place  
I'll walk straight down  
As far as I can go

I'll follow you if you follow me  
I don't know why you lie so clean  
I'll break right through the irony

Enlighten me  
Reveal my fate  
Just cut these strings  
That hold me safe

you know my head  
You know my gaze  
You'd know my heart  
If you knew your place  
I'll walk straight down  
As far as I can go

I'll follow you if you follow me  
I don't know why you lie so clean  
I'll break right through the irony

Cure this wait  
I hate this wait

I'll follow you if you follow me  
I don't know why you lie so clean  
I'll break right through the irony

"I'm a psychic." I explained, looking at them, sober and serious.

Edward's mouth hung open. Al wasn't moving. Edward chuckled, unsure. "You sure about that?"

"What reason do I have to lie? Ok, scratch that, would it be so far out of the range of possibilities?" I asked.

"Well," Al began, but didn't finish.

I decided to start weaving my deceiving tale quickly. "I know it must sound cheesy, but for the past few years, I've been having dreams. A small town, near a large river, over a hill." I fixed them with a complex look. "Two little boys, with their mother. That's where it starts. I saw a lot. But when it got to the conspiracies, lies, d-deaths, and then, but, I knew I shouldn't, but I couldn't let it," damn it, I was cracking, this really did affect me. These were real lives here, Maes will really... all of them are in real danger. I was unwillingly letting my troublesome emotions seep through. I bent my head, taking a shaky breath.

I felt a heavy, unyielding hand on my shoulder, and at first I thought it was Alphonse. I looked up, and to my surprise, Edward had his right hand on my shoulder. A pained, unreadable expression was on his face. "Is that true?"

"How else could I know?" I answered with a question of my own, feeling a little hollow. Oh there were certainly other ways, none of which they'd understand. I'd always thought of them as real people, but now, I've found the realization that no matter where you go, even if it was a supposedly 'created world', the people there take on lives of their own, they _live,_ they _die._ No matter where you go, or who they are, they're real people, just like the Cullens, just like everyone else. It would seem there is no 'fiction' as we know it, but, I suppose they could be referred to as, different worlds and realities. But now was really not the time for this. I'd further contemplate the meaning of reality later. I stared at the floorboards.

"It's alright." Alphonse said his young voice calming. "What did you see?"

"I saw," I blanched, the skin in my face tightening, remembering it all, everything that had happened and would happen, "everything."

"But, what do you mean everything?"

I imagined brows knitting together in confusion. I couldn't see their faces. I still was looking down, looking away. "I shouldn't say any more. It wouldn't help you if I did."

"What do you mean? If you know something, it might give us an edge! Maybe save a lot of lives somehow!" Edward protested.

"I don't expect you to understand, but, I want you to trust me. I can't tell you all or exactly what has — or will happen — but I can help you." If Edward and Alphonse found out half the stuff that had happened, and half the stuff that would happen, I wasn't sure how they'd react to it. Or how it would affect the future. Best not to traumatize them.

"But, why won't you tell us?" Edward asked again, his voice lower now, but frustrated.

"Because it could hurt you both, and others, more than it could help." I replied, my eyes down. _'Why can't I meet his eyes? Guilt?'_

I looked up, and Edward seemed at a loss for words, then a fervent look came over his face. "How can I— "

But then Al put a hand gently on Ed's shoulder, silencing him. Edward relaxed his posture, sighing. "I guess we have no choice."

"You'll accept my help, then." A statement, not a question.

"Yes." Edward answered, a little begrudgingly. It was a little funny.

I sighed, and smiled sincerely. "Thank you. For trusting me."I said with feeling.

Edward visibly flushed and turned away, scratching the back of his head. "Yeah, well it's not like I had much of a choice," he said as a feeble excuse.

I laughed to myself, I remembered how easy Edward was to read. In a way, I'd gotten to know him fairly well, from a distance. He was always a little shy with forward girls

'_They'll be heading to lab five tonight. I'm not letting them go alone.' _

"Well, see you in the morning you two, get some sleep. I'm beat." I stretched, faking a yawn.

"Hey, what's that on your arm?" Edward asked, taking a step toward me, a hand half-extended.

I looked, surprised. Tilting my arm to examine the cut on my arm Ed was talking about. It had stopped bleeding, the blood crusting over the wound. It was about a centimeter wide, and three wide and it cut across the outside edge of my forearm. It was a pretty bad cut for just falling on some stairs. "Well would you look at that," I said mildly, trying to sound unsurprised.

"That looks like a nasty cut," Edward began.

"No, it's fine, it's just a scratch," I dissuaded him.

"No, lemme take a look at that!" He insisted, seizing my wrist.

I froze, caught off guard. I subsided in my protests, allowing Edward to examine the wound. He turned his head to ask Alphonse for something, I couldn't quite hear what he was saying. I shook my head, trying to clear it. I was getting a sudden headache. Edward turned back to me with a strip of white cloth. He tied it tightly around the wound, knotting it briskly.

"There, that should stop it from getting infected, at least." Ed murmured, avoiding my stare.

"Thanks." I said. I fingered the bandage absently. I began to walk to the door when I paused, and turned. "See you boys later. Alphonse, Edward." I smiled faintly, nodding to them, then made my way out the door, shutting it behind me.

When I reached my room, Hope had already taken the liberty of launching into a full-blown inquisition.

"What took you so long? I have a few things to say to you. First off, I don't want to be carted around like luggage—"

"Please Hope, now is hardly the time." I said quietly, interrupting her. Something in what I said, or how I said it, made her fall silent.

"As you wish." She said humbly, bowing her small furry head. It was the first time I'd seen her show subservience to anyone.

I walked wearily to the couch, throwing myself back first onto it. "Do you think... do you think I'm doing the right thing? Do you think I've ever been doing the right thing?" I asked her helplessly.

"I can't say. I'm not here to judge, merely to aid you should you need me. I've given aid to your family for generations, so long, even my memory can barely remember a time before this forced service of mine. In time, I came to accept my lot in life." Hope fixed me with a deep, penetrating gaze. "But, can you take responsibility for what you have done, for what you do, and what has yet to come? Will you take responsibility for yourself, and for who and what you are?"

"Even I can't answer that. But I'll do my best. That's all I _can _do." I answered.

"Wise reply." Hope said, looking at me with eyes that held something ancient and sage-like. It was strange seeing something like that in a kitten's face.

I closed my eyes, breathing quietly, methodically. Trying to center myself. "I'm going to try and see them. I wonder if I have enough energy for that, the Gate took some of it."

"It did?" Hope sounded surprised, I couldn't see the expression on her face.

"Supposedly, it works on the principle of 'Equivalent Exchange', in this case, sort of like a toll for passing into this world. I'm not quite sure if I've recovered, or if it's actually taken a part of me that can't... 'grow back', for lack of a better term. Maybe if I went back through the Gate... but what would I lose to get it back? In any case, I'm going to try."

I took a deep breath, focusing myself to a pinpoint, and falling back into darkness.

Things were murky for a while, like being at the bottom of a lake at night. Then they started to get clearer. Gray light, filtering in, wavering at the edges. I was surfacing.

A picture began to form. I felt disembodied, floating. I was seeing inside of the Cullen home, a structure I knew well. I could see the Cullens, all gathered in the living room. A meeting. And there was Bella. There was something different about her. Oh yes, I saw now. She'd undergone the change. I wonder if it had hurt as much as I imagined it had. Bella was astonishing; pale, marble-hard skin, bright red eyes. She didn't seem to be having much trouble with the thirst. She's a good girl, that Bella Swan. Strong.

Edward had an arm around her waist, and I could see him speaking urgently, heatedly. I noticed the others looked grim as well. I couldn't quite hear what they were saying, but I could hear the tones and pitches of their voices. It was if trying to listen to a conversation while submersed in water. Maybe I was. But I could read Edward's lips. But just one word. It was enough. _'Volturi.'_

The Volturi were coming. Maybe to check and see if Bella was a vampire yet. Maybe to try and persuade the Cullens into letting Bella — and maybe Edward and Alice, as they'd once said — into joining their ranks. They'd never agree. It would most likely turn into a fight.

"_I wish you luck, friends, I wish you luck." _I can't quite be sure if I thought the words or said them out loud, I'd tried to direct them to the Cullens, wish they could hear me. Wasn't sure they could.

Then, Edward looked up, up at where I should have been. There was a puzzled, curious expression on his face. So maybe he could hear me. Or maybe he sensed my presence.

I tried to lend them my strength. _'Do your best. And don't get yourselves killed. I'm here for you in, well, spirit. You guys take care of yourselves.'_

Edward's eyebrows pulled together in slight confusion, but he nodded, a small smile on his lips. The others caught his attention again, apparently calling his name, asking him things. At first, he shook his head. Maybe the question was, Is anything wrong? They began talking again, and as Edward gave one last glance upward in my direction, the image began to waver, become murky and dark again.

The world burst back into being again, and I sat up on the couch, gasping, raking my lungs for a massive breath. I was covered in beads of sweat, and my fingers and toes felt numb with cold.

"Are you alright?" Hope asked me urgently.

"I'm fine, why are you freaking out?" I asked her.

"You stopped breathing after you went out. I couldn't hear your heart beating halfway through. I thought you died." She sounded a little peeved, maybe at me, making her think I was dead.

"Wow, there's something new. How long was I out for?"

"About sixteen minutes." Hope replied. "To be quite frank, you scared the hell out of me, as you'd say."

I laughed weakly, wiping the sweat off my forehead with my arm. I realized something was there. It was the bandage Edward tied around my cut. I played with the ends of the knot. It made me remember.

I closed my eyes, using my mind's eye. Right about where Ed and Al's room should have been, I saw two sparks, blurs of light really for how close they were, ambling downward and away. They were on the move. I jumped up from the couch, ran to the window. I opened it in time to see two figures retreating into the dark cover of night. I couldn't see the rope of knotted blankets and bed sheets that led out a window that would have been on the far right wall of their room around the corner of the building, allowing for their escape. I looked down, judging the distance. About four, five meters to the ground. No biggie. I'd just break my legs in about seven places in each, not to mention fractures I could get in my arms, torso, and head. If I was normal.

"What are you doing?" Hope asked me, sounding a tad indignant.

"Hope, I want you to stay here. I probably won't come back in the morning, and they'll probably find out that the Elrics — and me — bailed and will most likely send a whole wack of soldiers and other assorted military personnel to the location we'll be. I might come back with more than a few broken bones, a few nasty cuts, and maybe even barely half-alive, but don't worry."

"Now you're just saying that to _make _me do so."

"Yep." I sat down on the windowsill, my feet dangling out over the ground a fair drop below. "Oh, and close the window behind me, won't you?" I asked cheerily.

I slid off the edge and down, the last thing I heard Hope say was, "but I can't reach the bloody thing!"

I focused on the air below my feet. My stomach floated up in my ribs, and the air compressed under me, softening my landing quite nicely. But I still took a tumble. I landed in the dirt on my side, it was rather painful, but nothing was broken. There was a twinging pain in my right ankle, I'd probably pulled something. I cussed, shaking my ankle out, trying to work out the pain. The Elric brothers had more finesse. I stumbled to my feet, brushing off the dirt here and there, and took off after Edward and Alphonse.


	5. Map Of The Problematique

**Don't Own Full Metal Alchemist, Twilight, or any other amazing things like that. All I have is a story with which I wield crazy insane ideas and characters of my own. **

What I Bargained For

Part Five: Map Of The Problematique

_Fear and panic in the air  
I want to be free  
From desolation and despair  
And I feel like everything I saw  
Is being swept away  
When I refuse to let you go _

I can't get it right  
Get it right  
Since I met you

Loneliness be over  
When will this loneliness be over

Life will flash before my eyes  
So scattered and lost  
I want to touch the other side  
And no one thinks they are to blame  
Why can't we see  
That when we bleed we bleed the same

I can't get it right  
Get it right  
Since I met you

Loneliness be over  
When will this loneliness be over  
Loneliness be over  
When will this loneliness be over 

After tailing the Elric brothers — not well, may I inform you, I'm no professional tracker — I'd lost sight of them around one of the blocks. They must have taken an alleyway and got past me. This following stuff was not as easy as it seemed. Remember: _always take a map with you!_ It makes things SO much easier. If you can read maps.

I had to stop for a minute and close my eyes. Concentrating, I tried to pick them out with my 'mind vision.' Cue the X-Files music.

'_There, I think I have Ed — wait, then where's Al? Oh wait, that's a squirrel, I think.' _

I then finally found the two respective Elric–light-blobs and followed them until they were... suddenly out of range. I tapped the side of my head. Bad reception? Maybe it was Lab Five. I turned the corner, and next to a prison building was the notorious Lab Five building. Complete with chained and locked gates, barbed wire, trip wires on the other of the wall and barbed wire _on top_ of the wall. And they said it was an abandoned building. Abandoned, my freaky ass.

There was no getting in there from the front, even for the Elrics, who'd opted for the back of the building. So I followed the wall around to the back of the complex. I saw the barbed wire Edward and Alphonse had pulled down from the top of the wall to get over. Metal limbs and bodies came in handy then. I realized I was sweating, and I drew the back of my hand over my forehead. Suddenly, I could hear a clamor on the other side of the wall. I'm no supergirl, and my 'x-ray vision' was temporarily out of commission, so I had to assume that it was Al battling Barry The Chopper. Or, his soul attached to a suit of armor, as the case may be. Then that would mean Ed was nearing the end of his battle with #48, the two murderer brothers whose souls shared one suit of armor. This might be getting confusing for some of you, but don't worry. For those of you who are aware, let's move on. Time's a-wasting.

I'd have to get through the wall to really know what's going on. Barry was probably already picking away at Al's morale by now. And that ticked me off. Without a second thought, I waved my hand over the wall, watching it spark and flash as matter was parted, pushed, and moved to the side to reveal an opening. I stepped through; and saw Alphonse and Barry whom appeared to have been locked in combat about 20 meters away or so. I said 'have been' because at the time I saw them, they were staring at me.

"Clarissa?" Alphonse said, shocked.

"What's this?" Barry said sinisterly, "another intruder to play with? Oh, and a pretty little girl, too." He laughed raspily, the sound reverberating in the suit. Creep-tastic. Say it with me now, people.

Insert shudder of disgust _here_.

Without warning, Barry ran at me. Alphonse cried out, though I couldn't hear what he said. It was probably because of the fact it was drowned out by my impeccably loud cursing. "Holy Shit!"

I snapped my arms outward in front of me, letting loose a barrage of my power without thinking, and the psycho-murderer's feet — if you can call them that, seeing as he was a suit of armor — were fused to the ground.

"What?! What did you do to me?! You'll pay for this you little brat!" Barry threatened loudly.

"How did you do that without forming a circle?" Alphonse asked, shocked.

"I've got no time to explain Al, maybe after all this is done, but first, I need to find Ed, he's in big trouble for lack of a better term!" I shouted to him as I ran for the air vent in the side of the building.

"But wait! What do you mean? If he's in trouble I need to get to him!" Al protested.

"Don't worry!" I assured him, trying to wriggle into the ventilation shaft, which was a little higher than I anticipated, "you'll get in there one way or another, trust me, you'll be running into someone! And you might want to deal with Mr. Crazy over there. And don't listen to what he said, you're real, Al, you are a real person, don't ever doubt your brother. He loves you! Believe me."

I tried to hop up into the vent, unsuccessfully, and Alphonse came to help me. You couldn't help but adore the kid. As he hoisted me up, I decided to leave him with one last parting gift. "And Alphonse," my voice was a little weak from yelling, "you get your body back in the end."

I saw the shock in his 'face' and with that I crawled into the ventilation shaft. I hoped I was doing the right thing. I hope I _did _do the right thing. Telling Al the future might affirm or destroy the desired outcome. I hoped it was the former of the two.

I crawled on my elbows and knees, army style. Damn, it was a tight fit. Good thing I was almost as small as Ed. But there's the catch. _Almost. _It was even tight for Edward, if he'd been normal size, he wouldn't have fit. I was almost wedged in, but there was just enough room to make progress forward.

About ten minutes into crawling through the ducts is when I was getting impatient. _'Ok, shouldn't it be just about here where Edward kicked through one of the grates and continued on in—'_

"AAAAAAH!!!!"

There was an earth-shaking quake, and the vent gave way underneath me, and I fell about eight feet — it felt like thirteen — onto the concrete floor of a hallway. I landed half on my stomach, and half on my side, the left side of my face greeted the floor last — there goes all that costly dental work down the drain — and the rest of me, hit the floor first. I felt several things crack in my rib cage, and my hip really hurt, but I don't think I fractured anything there. I sucked in a deep breath, held my hands over my mouth and nose as my breath tried to fight out and make me scream at the top of my lungs at the pain. I writhed on the floor for several minutes until the pain had subsided enough for me to make it to my feet. My entire left side was stabbed all over with pain from the broken ribs. There were probably three or four of them. I explored the left side of my face tentatively with my fingers. My jaw was sore and would bruise horribly; I had a cut just over my eyebrow, and my lip was cut a bit on the inside from my teeth, one of which was slightly loose.

Not the fancy entrance I would have made if I had a choice, but you know what they say. Life sucks, then you die. But I beg to differ. Life is a mixing pot filled with embarrassment, humiliation, anger, disappointment, and _then_ you die, which sucks. I should know. Maybe a little bit of happiness in there, but you're lucky if you get satisfaction. Aren't I just a ray of sunshine?

I dusted myself off carefully and continued on down the hall the way I had been going. As I walked on, I found that the one hall split into two, one continuing on, and one going to the left, and angling slightly downward. I considered my options carefully.

"...If he hollers let him go..." I mumbled, pointing consecutively from one hall to the other. On 'mo' I ended up with the left hallway. It was more like a tunnel.

I looked suspiciously into the tunnel. It was darker than the one straight ahead, and it looked like it angled downward. I looked from one to the other, then shrugged. I continued down the dark tunnel, letting my eyes adjust to the light. I tripped over a raised part of the floor. I looked down, and saw that a fissure was running through the floor, raised about three inches compared to the rest of the floor. As if an earthquake had occurred. In actuality, it a shock from the bomb Barry set off. I froze, realizing. Greed was free now. I hurried down the hall, going quicker now. I turned another corner and froze. Beyond a thick, metal door, there was some kind of holding facility for the live test subjects for the experiments that went on in lab five.

And there was Greed. And several of the humanoid chimeras that had been part of the special Ops. team of the military before they were sold out. I stared, blanching. Greed turned on me with a look of mild surprise. The chimeras glared at me dangerously. Had I heard growling? Maybe.

"And who're you?" Greed asked brusquely, looking unamused.

"Oh, I'm just some random kid running around here..." I began, then Greed gave me a look.

"Ok, I'm here to save a few friends of mine from these three Homunculi: Lust, Gluttony, and Envy. I want to stop them, kick their asses, and save the day, you see? Do you know where they might be, because I got lost in this godforsaken place—"

I was interrupted by vicarious laughter that was coming from the formerly imprisoned Homunculus. I was silently nervous.

"That's funny. That really is." He told me. "Tell you what, you go find your little friends, fight those Homunculi, and I'll go on my merry way. Sound good?"

"It's the best thing I've heard in hours." I replied, grinning amiably. "Clarissa Tailor." I held out my hand.

"Greed. Nice ta meetcha, kid." Greed shook my hand.

That was completely insane. Not at all what I would've expected. Well, Greed was always the least evil of the Homunculi, but I suppose it's a long story. If you're familiar with all this there's no point.

"Now, I've got stuff to do, so, I think you take a right, then head up a floor." Greed said, adjusting his sunglasses.

"Thanks for your help." I said, making my way back down the tunnel.

"No problem, kid."

As I walked back down the tunnel, I studied the encounter in my head. It was bizarre to say the least, not at all what I was expecting to go through in a meeting with Greed. So he's not that bad of a guy after all. I knew that from watching the show, but that certainly wasn't what I was expecting. It was just as well.

If my internal clock was correct (which most of the time it wasn't) about now, Al should be delving deeper into the lab 5 complex with Scar, trying to convince him not kill Edward because of him being a State Alchemist. And about that time, Edward would either be confronting dark truths with Shou Tucker (now a freaky twisted chimera-version of himself) or in the elixir room, or facing the Homunculi —in the elixir room. Either way, it isn't that good. And if Alphonse was with Scar now, that would mean they'd soon encounter the more foul of the Homunculi (including Lust, Envy, and Gluttony, in order of stupidity. And I just don't like Envy) and then Al would be taken captive as incentive for Edward to complete the transmutation that would make the Philosopher's Stone. My goal was to get in on the action and hopefully do some good. I get an 'A' for effort, right?

The tunnel stretched out in front of me, dark and dismal. I found myself wondering if I was lost or if I would ever get out. I laughed to myself. If only a _little_ nervously. I kept walking and I began to realize one thing. Yeah, I was terribly, horribly, hopelessly lost. I was starting to rethink the whole 'helping people' thing. It usually left you in a bad spot. I looked around, trying to study the tunnel in the dark. I saw that the tunnel looked old, abandoned, certainly not the ones the others had gone through. I must have been a floor or two _below_. Looking up, I saw a vent grate. I sighed.

I jumped, and jumped again. Each time I was coming short of the vent cover, stymied. I stopped, thinking for a moment. "Well, duh!" I focused on the floor beneath my feet, gathering up the particles that composed it, and forming it into a narrow platform raised up from the floor, and lifting me to the ceiling. I reached up and grasped the grate's edges with ease, now that it was within reach. I pulled it from the ceiling, and a scary moment passed when I teetered on the narrow column and fought to regain my balance. Carelessly tossing the grate onto the floor below with a resounding clang, I gripped the edges of the opening and laboriously lifted myself in. I needed to get in shape, I had no upper body strength. I felt my way, crawling forward in the absolute darkness until I felt a wall . I panicked, patting the walls around me to find that the only way was backwards, and that wouldn't get me anywhere. I attempted to turn around, which was near-impossible in the cramped space, which forced me up onto my knees from my stomach. I expected my head to hit the top of the vent, but the collision never came. Curious, I waved my hands above my head, and to my surprise, the vent didn't end here, it just went up.

Standing, and reaching, I felt another grate come under — or rather above — my fingers. Good thing this vent didn't just go straight up for fifty feet or however much, or I wouldn't have reached it. I still had no idea where anyone else might be in the building, since my mind's eye was still on the fritz, but it must have been because I was in close proximity to the incomplete Philosopher's Stone, because my 'alchemy' was just as good as ever, if not better.

I pushed the grate up and slid it to the side. I managed to wriggle my way up and out, but it was no cake walk. Sighing heavily, and seriously considering going to the gym a few times a week, I found myself on what looked to be the proper floor. I rounded a corner, and saw Scar about fifty yards down the hall. Suddenly, another explosion, this time caused by Scar. I covered my eyes with a forearm as dust and debris rushed and plumed through the hall and rained down from the ceiling. When the dust settled, a gaping hole was opened up in the wall, revealing the 'elixir' room, and Edward, a beaten-up Al, Shou Tucker, and the three Homunculi.

Scar yelled for Edward to get his brother and get out. I rushed down the hall, and as I neared, Scar looked at me from the corner of his eye.

"And who are you?" He asked me. His voice was just as intimidating as I remembered.

"No one special. Just here to help the brothers. I'm no dog of the state, just in case you were wondering." I added hurriedly, nervous.

I heard a clamor of voices and a white light flashed as if a lightning storm had sprouted into being in the room. I heard Ed scream as he came into contact with the incomplete stone elixir. I pushed past Scar, well, more like skirted around him, and watched in horror as the alchemical power Edward built up for transmuting the prisoners there was strengthened infinite times. The process looked painful, and the excruciating expression on Ed's face stabbed pins in my heart. Edward automail transmuted uncontrollably, turning into lances that shot out and pierced the walls.

"That's not good," Lust cursed, "even though the material is unrefined, exposure to this much material could turn the boy into a god!"

Solidified spikes of the stone material formed and launched like bullets at the Homunculi, sending them and Shou Tucker scattering and out the door. They were of no consequence. The military was on their way, having been rallied by Maes Hughes, and led by the Fuhrer King Bradley. That meant the Major, Lieutenant Ross, and Sergeant Bloch were about to burst in and save the day. Not one to be outdone, it was, I'll admit, for purely selfish reasons that I intended to save Edward besides the fact that I was, well, saving Edward, stealing the opportunity from Maria Ross. Hey, I may have a conscience, but it doesn't mean I use it. Not all the time, at least. She was gonna come in and be all 'I'm so cool, I'm gonna put myself on the line and save Edward.' Oh, well, la-dee-da.

It was my reasoning that since Edward's alchemical power was amplifying inside of him, like filling up a balloon with water from the tap, the alchemical power was unable to escape Edward, since you needed to form a transmutation circle to let it escape, which Edward could do just by forming a loop with his hands and arms. But since his automail arm wasn't functioning, that was impossible. So, like a conductor for an electric current, another person had to be brought into the equation, and by making contact with Edward (e.g. a hug, etc.) And forming a concurrent circle, or circuit, the alchemical power could be redirected outward from Edward, ergo saving his life.

Or it could have just been that in his current state his emotions were tied to his alchemy, so if he were comforted and calmed down, the alchemy would stop. Either way, I was basically gonna hug Ed. Which is basically the point.

I jumped down from the gaping hole into the room, feeling _yet_ _something else_ snap in my ankle, but I continued on regardless — I'd be damned if another little injury stopped me now — and rushed to Edward. The rushing air in the room buffeted my face and whipped my hair into my eyes, and the lightning like bolts darting around sending what felt like volts of energizing electricity into my battered frame. I reached Edward, and wrapped my arms around him, gripping him tightly. I felt him relax, and murmur something, though I couldn't quite make out what he said. Contrarily, I went rigid as I felt the alchemical power flow into my body. I felt like a battery. I felt energized, alive. Instead of conducting the energy into the ground, I absorbed it into myself, feeling myself swell up inside almost feeling as if I could explode at any minute, that's what it felt like. I was _consuming all the surplus energy._ It fed something inside me, filled up a hollow that I thought I'd lost forever. I'd found the energy I'd encountered in the Cullens, the energy I thought I'd lost a part of forever — the energy that lived, if only infinitesimally, in all living things.

I was shaking from the intake, like a heroine addict. I could _feel_ the debris particles still floating in the air, the individual fibers of Edward's clothes under my fingertips — which I found to be made of a material wit a fairly high thread-count, I'd have to ask him who his supplier was — and I could smell the dirt, sweat and blood. The blood was mostly from Edward.

I heard the doors burst open, the air that rushed around the room from their arrival, their voices shattered my ears as they spoke. And, as if the strain of this heightened state were too much, I collapsed, and I could vaguely feel as Edward sagged from my grip. Apparently, he was unconscious, too. Everything went black as I felt the vibrations on rushed footsteps through the floor.

Damn confusing hallways.

* * *

**Sorry to all the people who don't know the FMA series and are currently going, "WTF" at their computers, but I thoroughly enjoy the series and I felt it was about time for me too to screw with the series myself. I try to keep my stories from being crap-tastic, and any comment is better than no comment at all, so tell me what you think, is it bad? Good? An utter disgrace? Coolest story ever? Everyone's entitled to their opinion, so please, don't hesitate to share. **


	6. Thoughts of A Dying Atheist

**I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist or any of the characters, just the revised storyline and the plot, and the two measly characters I made myself. So, please, enjoy! **

What I Bargained For

Part Six: Thoughts Of A Dying Atheist

_Eerie whispers  
Trapped beneath my pillow  
Won't let me sleep  
Your memories _

_And I know you're in this room  
I'm sure I heard you sigh  
Floating in between  
Where our worlds collide_

_Scares the hell out of me  
And the end is all I can see  
And it scares the hell out of me  
And the end is all I can see_

_And I know the moment's near  
And there's nothing you can do  
Look through a faithless eye  
Are you afraid to die?_

_It scares the hell out of me  
And the end is all I can see  
And it scares the hell out of me  
And the end is all I can see_

_It scares the hell out of me  
And the end is all I can see  
And it scares the hell out of me  
And the end is all I can see_

I'm not sure when I started to, but I was dreaming. It scared the hell out of me. I saw images of cities burning, people dying, and I was helpless to stop it.

"_It wasn't supposed to happen this way!" I screamed out, tears pouring from my face. Vicious chimeras were invading in hordes, falling on the people too slow to outrun them. The alchemists were there, the soldiers; Roy, Edward, the Major, even Alphonse. Then I saw Maes, in the corner of my vision, being shot by Envy. I cried out to him, but my voice wouldn't carry over the roar of the bloody crusade. The alchemists were all fight their own battles, and the chaos raged around me. I tried, really, I did, I tried to stop everything. I tried to stop the chimeras, I tried to make my feet move, but I was paralyzed. I was paralyzed by the fear the thought of my death brought — and a painful one at that. I was such a selfish person. I said to myself, 'I need to help them!' But I argued back, saying, 'I could get killed! Is it really worth it?' I should have said 'yes, it's really worth it,' but the words wouldn't come. Then, as if the voice of some ancient deity were calling down to me, I heard someone — maybe something — say, 'Are you ready? Are you to put yourself in danger for the sake of others?' _

_I suddenly looked around and I couldn't see anyone else — alive, that is. Fires burned around me, rubble that was once buildings strewn all over, I saw a flash of red. I thought it was Edward. I started to shake, and my legs refused to hold me up any longer; I slid to the blood-spattered dirt. Without warning, a chimera appeared, launching its scaly-furred body with a roar, I looked up with a gasp. _

I woke up from the typical dramatic dream sequence, gasping for air, covered, as the cliché went, with a cold sweat. I shook my head. I was practically still buzzing like a junkie on a coke rush. The lights were sharp in my eyes, and my ears pounded with the sound of my own blood. The affects of absorbing the energy had yet to wear off. I saw through bleary eyes that I was in a hospital room. The scratchy sheets and the stiff mattress assured my assumption. And everything was bland and white. That too.

'_What is this, the fifth time that I've woken up in a hospital somewhere?' _

"Are you okay?"

I jumped a little at hearing someone speak in the otherwise silent room. I didn't realize there was someone else in the room.

I regarded Hughes blankly for a minute. "No," I said bluntly, "I'm not okay."

"Well, now that's too bad!" Hughes said cheerily.

"Maes, please shut up." I said, massaging my temples wearily.

Maes looked at me for a moment, his expression puzzled. "I didn't think you knew my name, I was coming to introduce myself, in fact."

'_Oh crap.' _

"It's on your uniform." I said citing a small, shiny, rectangular name plate on his coat. _'Phew.'_

"Oh, so it is." He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck apologetically.

"Well, all the same, it's, er, nice to meet you, Mr. Hughes." _'Again.'_ I added, "you can call me Clarissa Tailor."

"Well, it's nice to meet you Clarissa," Maes began, then hunkered down into a more serious manner, "the reason I'm here is because I heard you were in Lab 5 with the Elrics. I want to know why you were all there and what happened."

"What about Edward?" I asked. "And Alphonse?"

"The boy's still asleep," Maes waved, "and, besides, Al's not saying much so I decided to come here and wait for you to wake up. I didn't wait long, but I noticed you seemed to be troubled. Mind telling me what's bothering you?"

"Bad dreams." I said.

"I figured. What were the dreams about?" He pressed.

I hesitated. "War."

Maes frowned, speculating. "I see. Now, back to the subject..."

"Well, I didn't exactly _go with them... _I followed them." I was a little chagrined.

"Ah, and why did you follow them?"

Baby steps. "I was in their room with them earlier, before they left, and I saw a map on their table with lab five circled on it. I figured they were planning something, so I waited till they left and I followed them."

"Out a second-story window." Maes stated, looking at me over his glasses. The overall image was one of skepticism.

"Yes."

He shrugged permissively. Maes then adjusted his glasses and regarded me anew. "And what did you find there?"

"Well, I spent most of my time crawling through vents so I didn't see much, but I did fall out..." I grimaced, remembering.

"Yeah, we figured something happened, you broke four ribs, ripped a tendon in your foot, and not to mention numerous cuts and bruises. Ed and Al aren't any better off."

"Oh, jeez, that reminds me!" I sat up; too fast. A pain lanced through my left side, but I ignored it, though it very nearly forced me back down.

"Hey, hey, hey, where are you going?" Maes asked, alarmed.

"I have to go see them." I explained.

I planted my feet on the floor, and got about one step away from the bed until my de-tendoned foot refused to support my weight. I fell with a quick exclamation, and I did a face plant. Ten for the dive; negative seventy-two for the landing.

"Ah! Hot damn!" I cursed, then added in a few other colorful words, including those of Anglo-Saxon origin. "I don't have time for this!"

I put my hand to my heel, surreptitiously mending my torn tendon. In retrospect, blatantly mending internal wounds instantly with just a touch was something best done sans an audience. But I was angry, in pain, and impatient. And just a little fuzzy. But letting out some of my pent-up energy relieved the effects I'd been feeling. I hopped up and dashed out of the room with a second thought or glance to Maes.

Running down the hospital hall in a light blue cotton gown often found in medical centers— thankfully, in Amestris they hadn't gotten the 'brilliant' idea of having backless hospital gowns, bless them— I searched frantically for Ed and Al's room, momentarily forgetting that I could've found them much more easily. I skidded around a corner, nearly going into the wall, when I saw part of something big and metallic in the corner near the door in a room whose door was open. It was Al, no doubt. I ran, and tried to skid to a halt at the door. When that failed, I had to grab the doorframe to stop me from sliding on past.

Ed and Al looked up curiously. I was clinging to the doorframe, panting. I composed myself and walked with all the dignity I could muster into the room. I sighed.

"So this is where you two are." I said, trying to be casual. "How are you holding up?"

"We're not too bad." Edward said, and Alphonse gave a monotonous grunt. "Looks like you got a bit beat up yourself." He added, looking appraisingly at my bandages.

"Just a little." I admitted with a dismissive shrug.

"Thanks." Edward said quietly.

"Huh?" I asked. "What did I do? Certainly not much, I mean.."

"You saved me back there." He said, not elaborating further.

"Ah." I said, looking away out the window awkwardly. "No problem, I would've done it any day, uh well, I mean, anyone would've done what I did." I laughed weakly.

"But you were the one who actually did. So thanks." Edward persisted.

"Well, I said I'd help you, didn't I?" I smiled angelically.

I turned to Al before I could see Edward's face, and half-knelt to be face-to-face with him. "And how are you holding Al?" I asked tentatively.

"Fine." Al said brusquely.

I sighed sadly. "Don't listen to what that murderer said, it's not true." I whispered.

"How can you know for sure?" Al muttered.

"What I said had no effect on you?" I sighed again, though more angrily this time. "It's no matter, things will still turn out as they should."

"Hey, what're you two gossiping about over there?" Edward called.

"Nothing," I said brightly, standing and turning to him.

Just then, Maes burst in the door, panting slightly. He rested an arm against the doorframe and looked up at me incredulously.

"How the hell could you run like that?" He demanded. "The Doc said the tendon in your foot had snapped clean in two!"

I shrugged, trying to play it off. "The doctor must have made a mistake. Maybe it was only pulled. I could run fine."

I saw out of the corner of my eye as Edward looked down at my bandaged ankle, eyebrows furrowed.

"But when you got out of bed, you couldn't even stand up," Maes began again, eyeing me critically through his glasses.

I must admit, right around then was when I was getting nervous.

"And then you—"

With perfect timing, Ross and Bloch appeared in the doorway.

"Ah, look!" I said gleefully, clasping my hands together (I reminded myself of Aro), "we have company!"

Maria Rossand Denny Blochsaluted Maes, who returned the gesture. He fixed me with a subtle look that said 'I'm keeping my eye on you.' I smiled to him and turned so I didn't have to see him studying me; but I could still feeling his gaze burning through the back of my skull. Of course, that could have been the aftereffects of a concussion.

"We just stepped out for a minute, is something the matter?" Maria asked, then turned to me. "And what are you doing out of bed?"

"Oh, uh, I thought it'd be best if we were all here, it'd save a lot of time with the collateral to deal with, I supposed." I explained weakly.

"Now, what I'd like to know is what the hell happened there." Maes demanded.

"Nothing much." Ed was the one that spoke first. "Now, I can't do much with this arm, so I'm gonna make a call."

When Edward got back, Maes asked Maria and Denny to grab him some lunch, as I knew he would, even though things had changed a little bit — all my fault, but hopefully no harm done.

"I suppose you _should _be here as well, after all, you were there too." Maes allowed.

"Oh, I've been wondering; is Mustang back at East Headquarters? I haven't seen him around." I piped up.

"Yeah, and he's told me you two've met. He tells me you're quite a piece of work. I was quite intruiged, so I left the site a little early to try and talk with you, but.." He chuckled, but his mood didn't lighten.

"A piece of work in a good way, I hope." I commented, half-muttering.

"Now let's stop beating around the bush, what happened back there, what did you see?" Maes asked, all business.

There was a long pause, and I, unwilling to say anything, stayed silent. I knew Edward would anyway.

"Homunculi." Was all he said.

Maes gasped. "You're kidding me. Artificial humans?"

"Yeah, only they're not so human."

"You're quiet." Maes observed about me.

"Like I said, I was mostly crawling around in air vents. I didn't see much. Edward knows more than I do, I'll bet." I said briskly.

Edward began to explain more about what he saw there at lab five, and drew things I'd already seen, hell, even the drawings I'd seen before. It was like a really serious case of deja-vu. But I won't complain. Though, the dialogue was a bit different from what I remembered. Oh, how the little things change.

"Thanks for the information. Don't worry, Ed, I'll take it from here. Just focus on getting rest, and taking care of your brother."

As he left I followed him. He walked down the hall a ways, blatantly aware. He turned to me, with several feet between us, and asked, "something you'd like to say?"

"Yes." I said shortly, and I could see he had his own stuff to say.

"You know, you're becoming a very suspicious little girl."

"I'm not that little! Jeez, I'm the same age as Ed." I protested.

"Yeah, but I actually know him." Maes pointed out.

"I just wanted to ask you to trust me. I'm just someone who's trying to help." I insisted. "I know you're very skeptical of me, and you have your own right to be. Listen, I'm trying to tell you all that I can— who I am! — but it's dangerous." _'Not that it'll make much difference, that is, until I have any say in the matter.' _

"Then tell me, who are you, Clarissa Tailor? Or is that not your real name?" He eyed me carefully.

"No, it's not my real name, but that's not important. You see, I know what's happened in the past, I know what's happening right now!" I took a breath, a pause, before I continued, "_and I know what's going to happen_."

"That's somethingI findvery hard to believe."

"It's the truth."

"I find this truth very hard to believe in."

"It's the truth _I _believe in." I insisted. "There's no way around that."

"Well, I'd say it was fun talking to you..." He let that hang. "I've got work to do."

He straightened his collar and continued on.

"Just be careful about that work. Please, be _very, very careful_." I begged.

"And I've changed my mind. I don't believe much of what you said, but I do believe you're a good kid."

"That means a lot to me, honestly." I sighed with a lop-sided grin

"See you around."

"Likewise." I said half-heartedly.

I saw a nurse approaching, and we both turned. She stopped, and I noticed she was holding a clipboard, and that she looked a little worried, and miffed. She looked past Maes to me and recognition and relief came to her expression.

"So _this _is where you've gone! You're the patient from room 214, we've been looking for you! You really shouldn't be up and about on that ankle— "

"No, honestly, it's fine now." I insisted, hopping up and down on the 'injured' leg.

The nurse cried out in shock. "But I saw the report, your Achilles tendon was almost completely torn through!"

Maes raised an eyebrow at me, and I ignored it. "Well, whatever was wrong with it, it's fine now! Honest! It doesn't hurt at all!" I laughed nervously. Maybe even a little hysterically...

"And your other injuries?" She asked.

"Well, they might take a little more time, but—"

Before I could finish, the nurse seized me by an unbandaged arm, tugging me down the hall back to my room.

"I really don't think this is necessary, you don't — please, don't lock me back up in there!"

But my protests went unheeded and I was locked — _locked_ — into my hospital room. The injustice!

"No! Let me out! This is inhumane!" I stood at the door, proclaiming.

"Dinner will be brought in a few hours. Try to get some rest, you'll heal faster." I heard the nurse's voice through the door.

I sighed, peeved. "Hot damn."

Dinner in a few hours. That meant about now, Maes was at his desk, maybe getting that call from Mustang, and Winry was probably coming into Edward's room, and then after dinner she'd be working on his automail, but then they'd get into a fight, then Maes would swing by again and take her to Elisia's birthday. It's all very complicated, so please bear with me here. And besides, I did _not_ want to stay here. I couldn't just sit around, and with any luck, they would have kept me there for a week or two with my broken ribs. But they didn't have to stay broken for long.

I placed my hands over my left side, and focused. I really pitied all those normal people out there who actually had to wait for their body to slowly repair itself. I mused about if my certain little power could be bottled, but then they could just as easily have a weapon of mass destruction on their hands. And I for one rather like my worlds 'un-blown up'.

When the repairs were done, I was feeling infinitely better. The pressure I'd been feeling from taking in the alchemic energy was lessening, expending itself when I used it up, like how I repaired my ankle earlier, though I don't see how that little stunt could be forgotten — by a few people, too. Well, we all have our own personal talents. For instance, I can't raise one eyebrow in that really cool skepticism-expressing way, and I really envy that.

And besides, Winry will bring a cake for Ed from Gracia, seeing as it was Ed's birthday too. And I really wanted a piece of that cake. Okay, not THAT badly, but I'm sure it will be a very tasty cake.

I waited for dinner to come, and when it arrived, the nurse I'd met before was the one who delivered it.

"Feeling ok?" She asked. She sounded almost disinterested, but that could've just been me.

"Yeah, never been better. Now even my ribs feel great. Almost as if they were never broken." I taunted.

The nurse placed the tray unceremoniously on the side table and left, closing the door behind her. I didn't hear a second click, so I assumed she forgot to lock it. I grinned fanatically and slid from my bed, tip-toeing to the door. I opened it a crack and it appeared that the coast was clear. I made a run for it, and that's when the nurse popped out of the utility closet and snatched me neatly by the collar. Damn.

"Going somewhere?" She asked dryly.

"Bathroom?" I suggested.

"Nice try."

And we were back to square one. I sighed, slumping helplessly against the door. With nothing else to do, I turned to my room-temperature meal. It wasn't that bad, it wasn't steak tartare, but it wasn't bad. I tiptoed to the door, pressing my ear to the door. I heard the rustling of pages. The nurse — I could see her behind my eyelids — was reading a book outside my door! If I really wanted to get out, there would be little to stop me, but I didn't want to have to tear down walls to accomplish it. By that time, it was already night, and that I'm sure of; there was a window in this little prison cell. And by the looks of it, I was about three floors up. I sighed, I'd had enough of jumping out windows and bursting through building walls and all that. I'd just wait until morning, she couldn't stay out there all night and stay awake the entire time.

I got a few hours of sleep—I'd spent quite a bit of time in hospital beds, and none of them seemed quite as comfortable as beds at home, especially the double-plush, goose down king-sized bed the Cullens had in he guest room—in the guest room! King size! Double plush! Goose down! It was six hours of feathery comfort every night!

This particular hospital bed? Not so much. But I supposed sleeping on a concrete slab would be worse. When dawn was breaking, its shining beams reaching out artistically, gently, to set warming illumination across me—I ripped the covers back, clomped fiercely to the window, and wrenched the curtains closed, grumbling. Then as I was climbing back into the bed, I heard a knock at the door. I sighed, irritated. I went to the door.

I opened the door, surprised to see a blue-clad officer standing there with my suitcase. He saluted to me — though he really didn't need to — and began to speak.

"I was charged by Lieutenant-Colonel Hughesto retrieve your belongings and deliver them to you at this time, miss." He said, saluting.

"Thank you. Um, you're dismissed." I said awkwardly.

He smirked, saluted again, and left. I saw the chair that was directly — not even three strides away— in front of my door. It was empty. I seized this brief window of opportunity. I dashed quickly back into my room, nearly tearing off the hospital gown, and I rummaged through my suitcase. My long trench-style coat had been folded and placed over top of everything, so I took that out and procured the black tank-top–esque shirt that at first appeared too small, but thankfully stretched to accommodate me. I pulled on a pair of black slacks and stuffed my feet into my boots, lacing them up. I left the gown on the bed, tried to tidy up a little — failed. I grabbed my suitcase and hightailed it out of there. I was just around rounding the corner when behind me, I heard the nurse cry out. She must have returned from whatever break she took.

"What? Where'd she go now?!" I heard her demand.

I forced myself to run faster, and as I was entering the door to Edward's room, I heard the end of what I knew was a very amusing argument.

"..be the size of a bean!" Winry was saying.

"A bean!?" Edward snapped.

"Yeah, a bean." And this time Winry patted Edward on the head to demonstrate his stature deficiency. Even if he was sitting in the hospital bed.

Without hesitating, I dashed into the room and dived under the bed, suitcase and all. Edward and Winry stared in shock at me, though Ed had to lean over the edge of the bed.

"Hide me, please! That nurse is looking for me, and I can't let her find me. She's the devil herself, mark my words!" I whispered frantically, begging.

Suddenly, I heard frantic footsteps approach the doorway. I stared practically bug-eyed at the nurse's shoes, blanching. I didn't even breathe.

"Have you seen the patient from room 214? A girl by the name of... Clarissa Tailor." The nurse asked, just barely controlling the irritation in her voice.

"No, haven't even heard of her." Ed said quite convincingly.

The nurse sighed heavily, and the feet retreated out the door. I breathed a sigh of relief. Suddenly, Winry kneeled down, looking under the bed at me.

"You ok down there?" She asked cautiously, as if I were someone dangerous whoescaped from the psychiatric ward. "What was that about?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm just peachy." I said, smiling, though my tone was lightly sarcastic. "Oh, I'm Clarissa Tailor, nice to meet you, Winry, I'm Edward's..." I paused and looked to him for a moment, "..friend?" I held out my hand. Edward shrugged, smiled, and nodded as I glanced to him, in that order, approving my assumption.

"So you know Ed?"

"Yeah, I guess I do. Not long, though." Little did they know, it was half a lie.

"Oh, uh, it's nice to meet you too." She smiled, a little unsure, shaking my outstretched hand. "But how did you know my name?"

"Oh, well, it's a long story. But I can make it short." I explained.

She waited a moment.

"Well, you see, I'm a psychic—and I get visions of the past and the future, and things that are happening elsewhere. Do you believe me so far?" I asked, a little doubtfully.

"Sure, if you say so," she said, looking a little uncertain, trying to process.

"And that's how I found out about Edward and the Philosopher's Stone... and what would come of it." I added a little more quietly.

"What do you mean, 'what would come of it'?" Winry asked.

"That isn't for right now, it's best if I don't say anything. You probably wouldn't like the answer." I frowned, shaking my head.

"What do you mean?" She asked, insisting.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I mean that a few bad things will happen, and I'm not sure I can stop them. There's the inevitable, and there's the variable."

"You're not making any sense! Just tell us!" Winry asked, a frightened look in her face.

"Winry, calm down, what's gotten into you?" Edward consoled from the bed.

"No, she's right. I'm not making any sense." I said, sighing.

Winry calmed down, but her eyes were still insistent. She seemed to be waiting, and after a few minutes she asked, "Well, aren't you going to say anything? Tell us anything?"

"Do you know what that would do? What kind of chain reactions could happen? Chaos Theory, my friends. One small, seemingly insignificant event could completely change the course of history! People could die because of it! Friends, family, innocent people? Do you think you could handle it if a little enlightenment about the future could cost the lives of people you care about, or people whom weren't even involved?" Winry was starting to annoy me, so my tone was getting a little harsh.

Winry was visibly taken aback. I didn't feel sorry— I felt exasperated, but not sorry— but I felt the need to apologize, especially after seeing her despondent and agitated face. Edward, too, looked troubled. "I'm sorry, I let my temper get out of hand. I know you're just worried."

"No, it's fine." Winry sighed and smiled, calming. "Ed rants a lot worse sometimes."

Edward scowled, and I laughed, "yeah, I've seen." I tapped the side of my head.

"Ok, if we're all done making jokes at my expense, I've got a few repairs that need attending to, if you don't mind." Edward reminded pointedly, practically grumbling.

Alright let's get down to work." Winry sighed, rolling up her sleeves. She popped open her tool kit and cited a steel screwdriver.

"Oh, so you're fixing his arm now. Mind if I hang around, I find automail amazing." I asked.

"Sure, want a tutorial?" Winry asked pleasantly. She unscrewed a metal plate from Edward's arm, who was now lying on his stomach with his arm out.

"Of course, that'd be great." I replied. I looked intently at the mechanical parts and pieces that were revealed when she had removed one of the cover plates for Ed's automail arm. When I thought no one was aware, I snuck glances at Edward's tightly toned back. I was such a fangirl.

"You see this part right here?" Winry asked, lightly tapping one of the metal parts in Ed's arm.

"Yeah," I nodded, intent on looking captivated.

"It's the main sprocket, it gives the elbow it's range of motion." Winry explained.

"Oh, wow." I said mildly.

"And these cords here, they're actually galvanized rubber, they act as the muscles, and these wires pick up the electrical signals put out by the brain." Winry said proudly. "Gran and I made it ourselves."

I nodded, pensive. "Painful."

"Only when you first attach the nerves." Winry amended assuredly.

"Where's Al?" I asked. "Up on the roof, already?"

"Yeah, when we're finished here, I'm going to fix him. How did you kn—never mind." Edward broke off awkwardly, he smiled amiably, rubbing his neck in an embarrassed gesture.

Al's doubts about his brother still hadn't subsided, he'd still run off. I guess there are some things that just can't change. Would I really be helping anything if I interfered?

"What's the matter?" Voices jarred me out of my reverie. Edward was the one who'd spoken, Winry had a hand on my shoulder, shaking me slightly.

"You had a blank look on your face, we were talking and you didn't react. Not even blinking, just staring out into space, it was kinda scary." Winry explained, looking and sounding worried.

"Oh, it was nothing. I was just thinking of something." I assured them.

There was a pause, and then Edward spoke up.

"Were you having a vision, er, something?" He asked warily, blinking with what I thought was surprise.

"No, not this time." I said, smiling mildly.

"Oh." He didn't say much after that until the repairs were done.

"Ok, now that I'm finished, let's go see Al. I'm going to talk to him" Edward declared, giving a look to Winry, to which she nodded approvingly, making me think they somehow got a word in together about what had happened and why Al was so distant. Which I don't know when that could have happened. He got up, flexed his arm, testing out the mechanics happily, even eagerly.

"Now I don't want you to go busting yourself anytime soon again, ok?" Winry asked.

"Yeah, of course Winry, thanks." Edward placated her.

They each took hold of two bags that I hadn't noticed earlier — I then realized they were the bags of extra metal parts Winry brought to help fix Al. Well, they weren't really bags, just large pieces of thick fabric used — why am I even bothering with this? Back to the story!

We made our way up to the roof where Al was, sitting forlornly, and propped up against the wall of the little building that covered the stairwell to the roof. The ground was three floors down. With nothing to do myself, I had just followed the two up — all the while keeping a lookout for the demon nurse. They set down their loads of scrap metal in front of Al. Winry greeted him kindly, but he didn't seem to notice much, and gave a small grunt. Edward apologized to Al, telling him they'd get their bodies back to normal, but they'd do it the right way. It wasn't much worth dictating out word for word; and besides, I'd already heard it times over.

"Maybe you can go back, brother," Al responded, "and I hope you do, but I don't think I ever can."

"What are you talking about Al? Of course you can." Edward said, trying to assure him. He resumed arranging the parts, clapped his hands together, and alchemically rearranged and repaired the molecules of Al's armor, reassembling and making him whole again. "How's that?"

"That's how you made me, when my body was taken by the Gate." Alphonse stated, looking at his armored fist.

"Yeah, why?" Edward replied, puzzled.

"Along with my memories." Alphonse continued.

I watched, grimly silent, from the side of the building confrontation. I crossed my arms over my chest, frowning darkly. Things would go just as they had, regardless of what I'd tried to do to stop it.

"What are you talking about, Al? What are you saying?" Edward asked.

"I'm saying the person named Alphonse Elric never existed, that I'm just made up, that I was never real!" Alphonse proclaimed, his voice rising in tone and anger.

"I see, so that's what you've been sitting on all this time?" Edward asked darkly.

"Back in Risembool, there was something you wanted to tell me, but you were afraid how I'd react." Al reminded him pointedly.

"Al, what are you talking about? You're real! I remember you! We were kids together!" Winry argued.

This argument was different from what I remember, a few words and phrases here and there worded differently, but it would make sense that even the most inconsequential things would be changed, if the Chaos Theory was applied. As it's often said, a butterfly flaps it's wings in India, and there's a hurricane in the Gulf of Mexico — that it's all connected. You should check it out, it's quite interesting.

Just then, Al swiped at Winry, causing her to stop talking and and jumpback away.

Edward made a grab for Al's other wrist as he tried to leave. "Al, wait!"

Alphonse swung his arm back, hitting Edward across the cheek roughly. "Let go of me!" He shouted.

He made for the edge of the roof, and I ran into his path, my arms outstretched. "Has nothing I have said changed your mind?" I asked angrily. "Will you still try to run from your problems?"

"Get out of my way, you don't know me!" Alphonse cried, swiping an arm through the air between us definitively.

"I know you better than you think, Alphonse Elric!" Behind him, I could see that Winry was holding Edward by the wrist; it was clasped between both of her hands, in more of a comforting than restraining gesture. Edward's face was pained, and he looked to be on the verge of hurtling himself after Al.

"Please, get out of my way!" Alphonse repeated, stating to sound frantic and desperate. "Just, just leave me alone!"

"Fine then." I said darkly, practically spitting the words at him. I lowered my arms and, turning to the side and taking a step back and out of his way.

Alphonse rushed past me and vaulted himself over the railing surrounding the roof and landed all three floors down and ran off. Edward broke away from Winry and made a dash to towards the railing. Luckily I was between 'Point Edward' and 'Point Railing', so I quickly stepped forward, grabbing Edward around the waist just in time as he came close. I was just in time; a little later and Edward would have gone over the railing and landed on the ground three stories down and obviously would have busted a few things on said landing. Mostly himself.

"No! Alphonse! Come back! Let me go, I have to get him back!" Edward cried out, practically sobbing. He struggled to get free, but I locked my hands together around him securely and strongly. He wasn't getting away. My cheek rested against his shoulder, pressed against it in my effort to keep him from escaping. Was it shallow of me to notice at that moment how nice it felt to be so close to him?

"Edward, stop! Calm down, you can't go after him right now, you'll hurt yourself, you idiot!" I growled in his ear, my voicestrained from thephysical stressof holding him back; after all, he had more muscle power backing him up than I did.

He gave up, slumping slightly, leaning against the railing. His shoulders hunched together, tightening in dejection. I looked up, and on Edward's — and my — left, Winry was standing, with her hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Ed." She said quietly.

"It's not your fault." Edward responded. I'm not sure she was saying sorry Alphonse ran away or sorry she didn't get to him before I did. Either way, Edward thought it was the former. I let go at that point, now certain Edward wouldn't hurl himself over the railing, but I kept a close eye on him.

"We'll find him, don't worry." I assured them.

"You said something to Al," Edward began, turning to face me, letting Winry's hand fall from his shoulder. "You said something about how nothing you had said changed his mind. You knew he was going to do this. You tried to stop him, you knew he'd do this and you didn't tell me?"

"Well, it's a little late now to say, 'oh, by the way, Edward, your brother's going to run away because he doubts that he's a real person and that you are his brother and actually care about him,' isn't it? All that we can do now is move forward. We'll start looking for him." I replied, starting out heatedly, then calming down, and ending with a weary sigh.

Edward stopped, staring at me. "Someone I know always told us that. 'All we can do is move forward.'"

I knew who he meant; his teacher, Izumi Curtis, the woman who taught him nearly everything about alchemy.

"Come on, Edward, get dressed, the three of us have a lot of searching to do." I requested resolutely. Edward nodded purposefully, set. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Winry nod too, but, as I was turning to the door that led back into the building — with Edward hot on my heels, eager to start looking for his brother — I saw that she looked dejected and troubled. And I could help thinking that the reason why was because of me. I was being quite selfish.

* * *

**And there you have it! Part six! I hope you enjoyed it, I know I took a long time on this one, but it was a full sixteen pages on WordPerfect, and it's WAY too hard trying to find out exactly what happened in the actual series event for even then, modify it to fit the story, AND proofread it all by yourself. So, review, please and thank you! **


	7. Endlessly

**Five saddening words: I. Don't. Own. Fullmetal. Alchemist. -sigh- Well, read and enjoy, people. **

What I Bargained For

Part Seven: Endlessly

_There's a part of me you'll never know  
The only thing I'll never show_

Hopelessly I'll love you endlessly  
Hopelessly I'll give you everything  
But I won't give you up  
I won't let you down  
And I won't leave you falling  
If the moment ever comes

It's plain to see it's trying to speak  
Cherished dreams forever asleep  
Hopelessly I'll love you endlessly  
Hopelessly I'll give you everything  
But I won't give you up  
I won't let you down  
And I won't leave you falling  
If the moment ever comes

Hopelessly I'll love you endlessly  
Hopelessly I'll give you everything  
But I won't give you up  
I won't let you down  
And I won't leave you falling  
But the moment never comes

It had started to rain. Edward, Winry, and I had been searching Central streets for any sign of a tall, noticeable person wearing armor. Apparently, he either wasn't that noticeable, or memorable, maybe. No one we asked had seen him, or anyone looking like him. When it began to rain, Winry broke out an umbrella, but I continued to look around, staying close, but refusing the potential shelter. Really, I was avoiding Winry herself. She seemed despondent, and not just about Al.

I looked to Edward, also without and protection from the rain. He gazed despairingly at the ground. I felt such a strong ache of sadness for him, his own pain fueling my own. It very nearly killed me inside to see him so tortured. The rain just made the mood worse. I'd blow them straight from the sky and give him the sun if I was strong enough. But that eluded me.

_Rain, rain go away,Come again another day,  
All the world is waiting for the sun.  
_

I realized it then. That it wasn't just a simple infatuation as I'd thought when Edward had seemed like a distant fable, made up from ideas and dreams of other people and pulled into life. He was here, he was real, and he was in pain. This whole ordeal, beginning from the day I was born, was making me test what truly was real in life — in everything. Nothing, and everything, is real, just as nothing and everything is fake: _'Perception is reality.'_ You with me so far? It's all very philosophical, I don't blame you if you're lost; I don't understand much of it myself.

_Is it you I want,  
Or just the notion  
Of a heart to wrap around so I can find my way around?  
_

"Clarissa?" I heard Edward call my pseudonym. That decided it; I was definitely making the change permanent. New world, new life, and now, a new name. About damn time, really.

"What is it, Edward?" I tried to reign in the urgency I could feel tightening my throat, trying to sound concerned, but calm and distant. Very tough.

"I just wanted to say thanks for helping us look for Al, and it kinda surprised me. I mean, it surprised me that you'd go to such lengths." Edward began awkwardly.

I looked at him intently; furrowing my eyebrows was good for effect, expressing slight confusion. "Of course I'd help you look for him, it's like he's my own brother, too." I smiled warmly.

He managed a weak smile in return. "It means a lot to me. I need to find him. There's... there _is_ something I need to tell him."

"I know." I said truthfully, sympathetic.

Several feet away, Winry was asking a man if he's seen anyone that looked like Al, and she showed him a drawing of what Al's armor looked like, but he shook his head. I purposefully looked covertly at her out of the corner of my eye, I saw her turn to look at Edward and I, and she looked despondent. Was she really _that_ fond of Edward, or was I just misreading her unhappiness? I never saw anything that demonstrated anything more than familial affection between her and Edward, of course, I could be wrong.

"We should get inside." I said, feeling that my clothes were soaked right through, and I suspected Edward wasn't much better off.

"But we haven't found him yet." Edward protested.

"Don't worry, you'll find him soon, tonight, if I remember correctly, if not in the way you expect. We'll call Maria Ross, I'm sure she's heard from Al by now." I said with all certainty.

Edward sighed and nodded, relenting, not even acting surprised or asking questions. Winry rejoined us from questioning people, and we informed her of the decision, nodding; she looked up at the sky, appearing wistful. I looked at her with concern, briefly. I also saw how Edward, if indirectly, noticed how depressed Winry looked, and he appeared concerned too, but he didn't seem to know a reason why, and he and I alike said nothing.

Then, I realized something. I slumped as I walked. "We'll be going back to the hospital eventually. My stuff's there."

"Yeah, why?" Winry asked, perplexed.

I shuddered, eyes wide, and my face was most likely very pale. "That nurse is there. There's gonna be hell to pay if she finds me."

They both laughed a little at my expense, but I couldn't tell which one seemed more depressed. Maybe Winry, after all, I told Edward he'd find Al soon.

I looked around the street and spied a telephone — an old-fashioned one in a booth — and ran towards it. Edward and Winry followed behind me, and we all tried — and succeeded in — squeezing into it at once. I gripped the telephone box firmly on the left side with one hand, seized the receiver from the cradle, and was about to dial dramatically when I stopped.

"Um, does anyone know the phone number for the hospital?" I laughed, embarrassed.

"Here, I'll dial it," Winry offered with an enduring sigh. She reached and arm past Edward's chin, who had to tilt his head back a little to avoid it in the small space, and over my arm. She punched in the number — which was short, just three numbers or so — and retracted her arm back to her side.

I heard it ring twice before someone picked up, there was a slight hesitation, as if the person on the other end of the line wasn't sure if they should be answering the phone.

"Hello?" Maria Ross asked, sounding disoriented. I knew it would be her, it wasn't just a case if luck, but influence, too.

"Maria, it's Edward, Winry, and Clarissa." I explained.

"Oh, I've got news; I've heard from Al." She said.

"Yeah, we know." I said brightly, at the same time Winry heard and asked, "you've heard from Al?"

"Yeah, and I think he's involved in something strange." Maria replied.

"I know," I muttered to myself blandly. I spoke more loudly so that I could be heard. "And you know where he is, right?"

"Yeah, he was talking about mercenaries and an old military installation—" She began, but I cut her off.

"Oh, yeah, I remember now! They're at the military installation outside of town!" I exclaimed triumphantly, remembering. I hit myself in the forehead with the open palm of my free hand.

"They?" Winry and Edward asked in unison. I ignored them.

"How did you—" Maria started to ask, but I cut her off for a second time.

"Thanks Maria, bye now!" I said cheerily, hanging up the phone without waiting for a response.

"I think I know what you're talking about." Edward said. "I think I know where that military installation is."

And with nothing more than that, he took off like a speeding midget alchemist. Which he was. And no matter how amusing that statement is found, Edward can pull it off, 'cause he's just that great. Or maybe I'm just biased. Either way, Winry and I were left behind to run and catch up and call out to Edward that he should slow down and wait for up for us a little.

By the time we saw the military installation looming over the hill, it was already very dark, and the fight had already begun. Everyone was oblivious to our arrival; Edward dashed up the hill, and I followed him without hesitation. We saw the two Ishbalan children — Rick and Leo — and the old man. Scar was fighting the mercenaries' ring leader, the one who could control electricity, and Al was fighting Barry the Chopper. Barry apparently was doing a bit of smack-talking, and he was beginning to earn the upper hand.

Edward broke away, veering off like a speeding bullet towards the fight. "You leave my brother alone!" He cried out, and he launched a running kick of some sort at Barry, knocking him back.

"Brother!" I heard Alphonse cry out in surprise.

The two of them began to fight Barry, so I surmised that they'd be ok, and I turned to the other mercenaries. Some of them had already been apprehended, but some of them weren't. And they were coming at me. With hunting knives, and bayonets, and guns and all that wonderful stuff people use to injure and disembowel others. This could be tricky. There were at least three or four of them. The rest of them were hauling artillery against the barrier Edward and Al were taking cover behind.

They were gathered in a lumpy semi-circle around me — I kept backing up tactically a little to make sure none of them found their way behind me. One guy took a swipe at me from my right, and I just barely dodged it, and then someone on my left threw a punch from my left and I ducked down. They were starting to inch forward, one by one, dancing around a little, trying to mask their efforts with overlying attacks and lunges. I glanced as briefly as I could behind me, and I saw that they were trying to back me against one of the remaining walls of the military installation. A little too late, I saw one of them lunge at me with a hunting knife, and he made a downward swipe at me. I jerked my head back, but I hadn't reacted quickly enough, and the very tip of the knife slipped down my left cheek.

It stung a little, so I knew it had cut through. I was officially in attack mode then. The icy calm washed over me, and I could see everything clearly now. The man had put all of his weight into the attack, and leaned forward, and as his arm was on the downstroke, I reacted on instinct. I grabbed his wrist with my left hand, pulled his arm past me, pushing down on his shoulder with the other, pinning him to the ground. I twisted his arm until I felt a pop in his shoulder; he screamed and dropped the knife. I picked up the knife, holding it tightly, decisively. The others hesitated, seeing their comrade writhing on the ground, who'd then taking to cussing between sobs about his broken shoulder. That surprised me a little, I'd thought I only dislocated it. Oh well, he was probably just saying that. One guy, seeming smug enough, raised a gun. As he pulled the trigger, I raised my hands, forcing them back by heating and explosively expanding the air between me and them. They were blown back, toppling backward over one another like bowling pins. The bullet had been blown off to the side as well, hitting home in the wall behind me.

None of my attackers attempted to get up; apparently, they were knocked out. I sighed, relaxing and rising from my defensive crouch; the icy clam retreated. I realized I still had the knife in my hands, and that I was gripping it tightly. With some effort, I uncurled my fingers from it, letting it sink blade-first into the dirt.

Then, I heard Winry cry out, "Al, behind you!"

I looked, and saw Barry hurtling through the air towards him. Apparently, Edward asked him if Al hated him because of what happened, and Al called out his response, "Brother, I could never hate you!" and struck the demented murderer stuck in a suit of armor right in his skeletal face, sending Barry 'the Chopper' flying backwards.

With Barry out of the way, it left Edward and I to round up the fallen mercenaries. Edward clapped his hands to the ground and fashioned a cage around them. He smiled and gave me a thumbs up, and I returned it. Suddenly, a strong blast of light erupted; it was from the lead mercenary, the alchemist who controlled electricity. I had to cover my eyes. When it dispelled, Scar attacked him, but because he was in pain from previous injuries — he was covered in bandages — he didn't kill the guy.

"Shoot! Somebody shoot him!" The guy yelled, but when he looked behind him, he saw that all his buddies were out of commission.

"Time to give up," Edward called to him, "looks like you're the only one who's left here."

"Who the hell are you?" He demanded.

"I'm a dog of the military, just like you." Edward said darkly, crossing his arms.

"But that doesn't make any sense, we're on the same side!" He proclaimed.

Edward gasped, startled at this information.

"Well, this _is _a surprise," I turned to see it was Barry the chopper, raising up from a pile of rubble. "A real State Alchemist, please allow me to thank you... for making me look like this!"

As he rose, his skeletal face came into view; the entire left side was caved in and broken away. At the end of his proclamation, he stood and rushed at Edward, Alphonse, and I. Alphonse moved in front of Edward and I, but it wasn't necessary. Scar had come running, and he intercepted Barry, and using his destructive alchemy, he tore him in half.

Barry's upper half flew away with a scream, and landed on the lead mercenary — which I think is a result of really good aim on Scar's part. Barry screamed as his blood seal started to burn off, and the mercenary got to his feet, struggling to remove Barry, who was clinging to the contraption the guy carried on his back to attack people with his electricity. The back-pack thing was starting to short out, and the mercenary unstrapped it from his back and fled from the ticking time bomb.

The contraption exploded, sending shrapnel and steel spikes flying everywhere in every direction. I, myself, barely managed to dodge one that flew my way. Rick, the younger of the two Ishbalan boys, was not so fortunate.

"No, Rick!" Alphonse called, rushing to him. I followed him, but without the same urgency, I knew Rick was fine.

In the arms of his brother, Leo, Rick opened his eyes, unhurt. His mother's locket, that he carried with him constantly, had stopped the spike and saved his life. The locket popped open, and inside was a picture of the brothers and their mother, and several orange pills that were eye medicine. Leo always thought that when the military attacked, their mother had abandoned them, but as it turns out, she was blind and couldn't see them. They had been playing at the foot of the stairs when the soldiers came in, and because she couldn't see, she ran from the top of the stairs and gone into their room looking for them, and then a bomb had gone off, and it killed her.

The old man picked up one of the little orange pills. "Oh, this is eye medicine."

"Eye medicine? She couldn't see.." Leo repeated. "Then that mean, our mother went into our room to look for us and protect us from the soldiers and that's when...Oh no.."

Tears welled in the brothers' eyes. Leo started to cry, himself, and the old man comforted him until he'd regained his composure.

Then, without bothering with the rest of the mercenaries, we hauled tail out of there in the car that, Alphonse and the others had come in.

In the morning, at the river, we were there to say our farewells to Rick, Leo, Scar, the old man, an the rest of the Ishbalans — who'd until then, had been hiding in the rather spacious and oddly clean sewers (must have been for rain water, then) under the city.

"Where will you go now?" Alphonse asked.

"There's a group of us living in hiding from the military just like us. We'll go downstream until we find them." The old man answered.

"And Al, thank you for everything. Now when I think about my mother, I'll treasure every single memory that I have." Leo said.

"Me too, from now on I'll know my memories are real, and I'll have faith in them." Al responded.

"Alphonse Elric," Scar began, and Al turned, curious to see what he'd say. "Earlier, I did sense something; tears that can't be seen, but felt. Those tears were human."

"Thank you." Al said sincerely.

"Hey, Scar, so tell me something. Did the Ishbalan people ever possess the Philosopher's Stone? Is that the truth? And the military came after it?" Edward asked.

"No, Ed," Scar corrected, "it's the other way around. We wanted the stone to keep the military from wiping out our way of life."

"But did you create one? A Philosopher's Stone?" Edward persisted.

Scar didn't reply to him, but said, "let's get going," to the other Ishbalans in their boat.

"Hey, hold on," Edward said as they began to float away, "I want an answer!"

"Brother, let him go, they need Scar, he can help them." Alphonse told Edward.

"Al, let's get going." Edward said, turning to face his brother.

"Right," Al nodded.

"And what am I, chopped liver?" I admonished jokingly.

Edward laughed, and Alphonse joined him. Winry sighed, and I couldn't tell if it was exasperated, or sad.

As we were walking back, Edward began, "you know, Al, we used to fight over the dumbest things back when we were kids."

"Like who got to sleep in the top bunk." Al offered.

"Yeah, I remember, I lost that one." Edward accorded happily.

"What about that time we fought over the toys?" Al asked.

"We used to fight over candy, too, right?" Edward laughed, then realized something. "Hey, I never won any of them!"

I laughed vivaciously, clutching my stomach against the strain. "Looks like it, buddy. Now I know who to play poker against, you'd have to cheat to win!"

"Hey, I could beat you with one hand tied behind my back!" Edward declared.

"You keep telling yourself that, Shrimpy." I said smugly.

"Here it comes," Al and Winry said warily.

"WHAT?! WHO'RE YOU CALLING SO SHORT THEY HAVE TO USE A LADDER TO CLIMB A SINGLE STEP?!" Edward ranted.

I ran, laughing gleefully, and he came after me.

"GET BACK HERE! WHEN I CATCH YOU, YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO MAKE ANY WISE CRACKS!" Edward threatened.

"That's right, shorty! Run! Run on your stubby little legs!" I cackled diabolically.

Edward roared in outrage, speeding up.

"Oh crap!" I cursed as I saw him gaining on me.

I forced myself to go quicker, and he fell farther behind once again. I laughed. "Run, run, run, as fast as you can, but you can't catch me, 'cause I'm—"

And that's when I tripped on a large rock — who leaves a large rock in the middle of the road?! — and fell face first to the ground and rolled.

Dazed, bruised, and confused, all I could say was, "ow." How adequate one syllable can be for such a sum of pain and stupidity.

Edward came to a stop at my side, no longer ranting about his stature or any threats he wished to impose on me because of comments on said stature. As I tried to sit up, my head began spinning and throbbing horribly. I groaned, holding my head, and I felt a bump there, and broken skin. I pulled my head and saw blood.

"You're bleeding," Edward observed before I could say it myself.

"Hmm, you think?" I asked, sounding genuinely tired.

"Are you ok?" He asked.

"Yeah. Serves me right. Next time I'll make sure I knock myself unconscious." I muttered, sighing. I tried to stand, but fell straight back on my butt again; my head spun like a top. Grrreeeaat. "Ugh, I don't think I can stand without puking. Help me up, would ya?" I asked.

"I could carry you." Edward offered quite confidently. By now Winry and Al had gathered close.

"You sure? I think maybe Al should..." I trailed off doubtfully.

"Are you saying I'm...what? Too small?" He said grouchily.

"Fine, help me up," I held out a hand, intending for him to just pull me to my feet.

But no... Street and sky swirled around me sickeningly as he swooped me up, bridal style. I crossed my arms obstinately, fighting my gag reflex.

"There," he said, grunting slightly from the effort, "I told you I could carry you."

"Stupid macho-headed male." I complained. "Edward, put me down, I'm gonna be sick."

"Then look up at the sky. Pick a cloud." He snickered.

"Looking up makes me feel like I'm gonna puke." I protested.

"Then take deep breaths." He said.

"If I breathe too much, I'll feel sick and puke." I griped.

"You're talking, breathing, looking up, and you're not puking." He pointed out smugly.

"Shut up." Was my brilliant, petulant rebuttal. "Smart Alec." I grumbled. "My heeeaaaad... ugh... it _huuuurrrts soo much..."_ I whined. "I can't say I didn't warn you. When I start throwing up on you because you wouldn't just listen to me."

"Feeling bad?" Winry asked superfluously.

"You bet your best piece if automail." I replied, a little dryly; my head still spun.

"You're being carried by it." Winry laughed.

"I feel better now, put me down." I declared

"You— " Edward began, but I cut him off.

"Put me down. I can walk on my own." I asserted. I didn't feel as confident of that as I felt, but I was being stubborn. I was gonna walk on my own if it killed me. I wasn't any pushover who needed to be carried around like a little kid. Even if it was Edward Elric. Fickle, aren't I?

"If you say so."

He dropped my legs, letting them fall to the ground, but still had a hand around my shoulders. The instant I put weight on my legs, I pitched forward helplessly, involuntarily, with a cry. I stopped suddenly, with my face just a foot from the ground. Edward had me by the shoulders, and as he righted me, I laughed weakly.

"So, 'I can walk on my own,' huh?" Edward quoted. "I think you hit your head pretty hard."

"That's what happens when you loose your temper, Ed. People get hurt." I said pointedly.

"As I recall, you started it." Ed pointed out.

There was a pause.

"Shut up." I grumbled irritably, crossing my arms.

Edward snickered, and Winry and Al laughed too. I was about to tell them off when I got that oh-so familiar churning sensation in my stomach and I ran to the nearest garbage can — fifteen yards away — and threw up. Oh, joy. At least I felt a little better.

The others ran up to me. "Are you ok?" Was the general question being asked.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine, just having a conversation with the garbage can. He has a lot to say." I replied wittily. I sighed. "Ok, fine. Ed, carry me if you want, I really don't care anymore, my head is spinning and hurting too much."

"Looks like you really were going to puke." Edward laughed, looking a little relieved.

"Just be glad I didn't puke on you." I growled.

I allowed Edward to pick me up this time, the four of us began walking again, and my head spun a little less. "Such I gentleman." I stated taunted, a little snidely, mussing his hair, "with a cowlick and a braid." I snickered.

"Hey, don't touch the hair." Edward objected, muttering, and frowned.

"If you two lovebirds are done..." Winry interrupted our banter.

"Hey!" We protested angrily.

"Edward, down." I ordered. This time, I felt fit enough to stand.

"What? I'm not a dog!" He snapped.

"I'm talking about me! Put _me _down!" I corrected snippily.

"Gladly." Edward said, letting go of me unceremoniously.

Luckily, I landed flat on my feet, staggering slightly, and not on my face — or my ass, which was nice. I managed to walk from then on, but I still had a bit of residual ringing in my ears, and I still felt slightly light-headed.

When we finally made it to the hospital, tensions had lessened and returned to normal. I was too nervous to stay in the hospital too long, lest that crazed, maniacal, infernal nurse find me. So while the others merely walked in, I snuck in — James Bond would be proud — and grabbed my suitcase and ran for my life. Sadly, I didn't get far.

We all rendezvoused back in Ed's hospital room — I really _was_ starting to hate hospitals, they had become a place of much discomfort to me..._anyway._ I got patched up: the cut on my cheek and the scrap on my forehead. We'd already packed up all our stuff, and we had all gathered together — me, Ed, Al, Winry, and Hughes and the Major — to review some info the latter two had dug up.

"Alright, so all the higher-up officers who we assume were in Lab Five's chain of command have either died or fell off the map." Edward said pensively, reading through the leaflet Maes brought.

"You'll note the criminal with the Oroborus tattoo isn't on that list." Maes added.

I heard some muttering outside the door that I knew was from Bloch and Ross talking; they were still standing guard.

"The scientists who worked under Doctor Marcoh weren't on the list, maybe they were thought not to have enough information to be a threat." Major Armstrong speculated. "If we can find them.."

"Leave it to me," Hughes interceded.

Edward and Alphonse shared a look then.

"Um, about that," Al began.

"The thing is, we honestly don't care about that stuff anymore." Edward finished.

I knew they were just saying that so they didn't have to be worried. Maes knew it too, he understood them well. Maes, the Major, and Winry were all startled by the news, I heard a few gasps here and there, too.

"What do you mean you don't care? Are you crazy?" Winry asked incredulously.

"We just don't think we should have to deal with dangerous things anymore, like the philosopher's stone or Homunculi." Edward explained, shrugging.

"Yeah, we thought it would be better to look for a different way, you know?" Al conceded.

"But, boys, it would be better, but," Major Armstrong began, but Maes cut him off.

"If you really thought there was another way, why did you go through all this trouble?"

"Who knows, maybe there's not, but there's someone we should ask." Edward said.

"Our original teacher." Al added.

"She lives south of here, in a place called Dublith, we're planning on taking a trip there." Edward finished.

"But it's just so sudden." Major Armstrong protested, but Maes held out an arm to stop him.

Winry gasped, and we all turned to see what was going on. She had turned, and was pointing to a map of Amestris on the wall.

"There, on the way to Dublith..." Winry stammered. Edward looked exasperated.

"What is it, Winry?" Al asked.

Then, Winry was talking so fast all you could hear was "Rush Valley", but I think what she said before that was, "Only the world-wide Mecca of automail." But you never know. She was also spinning around gleefully. Yeah. I died a little inside. Then she hopped up on the bed and started jumping on it.

"You've really got to take me there, you've gotta!" She begged. Well, more like whined.

'_Oh joy...'_ I thought sarcastically.

Then, Winry was clinging to the edge of Edward's coat, flailing around like a child having a tantrum.

"I've always wanted to go, come one you guys, _please_!" Winry got up and did the whole, shiny eyes, childishly hopeful look trick.

"Vacation on your own time, okay?" Edward muttered — grumbled — grumpily.

"Well then who would pay for my travel expenses?" Winry asked, annoyed.

"Very funny!" Edward snapped back.

"We could manage it, it's on the way, like she said." Al said assuringly.

"I'm not one for tourist traps, but you're not leaving me behind." I said, always the self-sacrificing one.

"What? I'm paying for you too?!" Edward growled, turning to me.

I smiled angelically. "Mostly. I don't have much else to my name except the change in my pockets."

"Okay, fine," Edward sighed, relenting.

"Yay!" Winry cheered, waving her arms and sparkling and all that.

Hughes and the Major left, and I knew the dialogue would go a little something like this:

"They're finally going to quit throwing themselves into dangerous situations they don't need to be in." Denny would say, sounding a little bit relieved and proud. "Must have seen what we had to go through as their body guards, that's my bet." And then he'd nod.

"It would be a perfect ending, if they actually meant what they said." Maes Hughes would then reply.

Which would make Maria and Denny start in surprise.

"They told us that to protect us so we don't become the next victims on the list." Major would say.

"It's easy to forget they're kids sometimes." Hughes would remark next.

'_Wait,' _I thought to myself, realizing._ 'Hughes is going to see Doctor Marcoh tonight. If nothing else, I have to try and stop that from happening. I have to _try.'

"Oh," I spoke up aloud, and Ed, Al, and Winry all turned to look at me. "I've got some stuff I have to deal with here, tonight. I won't be catching the same train with you, but I'll get the another train as soon as I can."

"Well, alright then, but what kind of business do you have here?" Edward asked.

"And what about being able to get there, didn't you say you were short on money?" Alphonse asked.

"Oh, this and that, and I'm pretty sure I've got enough for a train ticket. If not, I'll find a way, even if I have to sneak onto the train." I joked, hoping to ease their spirits.

"Well, let's head over to HQ, there are a few things we need." Edward said. "And I'm sure as hell not staying here any longer than I have to."

"I hear you, I'm really starting to hate hospitals." I said, shaking me head.

"Oh, were you always sick as a kid? Is that why?" Winry asked.

"Not really, but I've woken up in hospitals too many times." I shook my head again, forlornly.

I could feel their quizzical looks, but didn't acknowledge them.

When we got back to Central Headquarters, I rushed to my room, worried about leaving Hope there for so long, though I had a feeling she would be a lot better off than I thought she'd be. Earlier, on the lower floor, I passed by Winry talking to Al, and I wondered what it could be about. Edward paid them little attention and let them carry on their private little conversation, and he was also heading upstairs to his room. I was just going a lot faster than he was.

"Hope? Hope, where are you? Are you ok?" I called out after I burst into the room and shut the door hastily behind me.

"Where have you been all this time? The only person to come in here after you left so rashly was that one officer, and he took your things away. I see you have them now but— "

Before she could finish her reprimands, I scooped her up and hugged her mercilessly. "Oh, thank god you're ok! I was worried you curled up and died somewhere in the room!"

"Put me down!" She howled, biting into my hand.

"Ow!" And with that, I dropped her immediately. Of course, she landed perfectly on all fours, like most cats do. Except for cats who only have three legs, then it's kind of hard to land on all fours.

"Of course I'm alright, did you think a few days unattended would be the end of me? Unlike most things, I don't need food to survive." Hope said huffily.

"Oh wow, now that's not something you hear every day." I said mildly, a little shocked.

"Do you think they notice anything?" Hope asked, seemingly out of the blue.

"What?" I asked, lost.

"Do you think they notice anything strange about you or I? The last thing we need is suspicion." Hope explained, sighing.

"Yes, actually, but it's not as bad as you think!" I assured her, waving my hands as if that would help prove my point.

"And how is it not as bad as I think?" She asked with lethal delicacy.

I swallowed audibly. "Well, Hughes — this one guy — he knows something's up with me, but he knows I'm just here to help, so it's fine, but I think Edward realizes something's weird about me — oh, man! I need to talk to him about that, I should do that now!" I realized suddenly.

"Oh great." Hope muttered.

"Stay here, and don't do anything stupid." I said hastily, heading for the door.

"And what about you?" She asked me dryly, but I didn't reply and was out the door.

I rushed to Edward's room, and in my haste, I neglected to knock. I grasped the doorhandle, twisted, and swung the door open inward, taking a step inside, saying, "Hey Edward, I need to talk to you — woah."

I stopped dead in my tracks as I stared wide-eyed and blushing at Edward, who in turn stared wide-eyed and blushing at me and was clad in nothing but a towel around his waist, and was using a second one to dry his hair. Instinctively, I clapped a hand over my eyes and started apologizing immediately.

"I'm so sorry about that, Edward, I should've knocked—" I cut myself short when I realized the door was still open, and I closed it behind me hastily with a hand.

"Oh, um, no it's fine." Edward assured me, the surprise — and red — fading from his face, but still looking a little bashful — and shocked.

"Hey," I said, noticing a big red mark on his shoulder. "What's that?"

A thin streak of blood began to run down his arm from it when I realized it was a wound.

"You're hurt? Why didn't you say anything?" I asked, a bit miffed.

I approached him without a second thought to get a better look at it. He flushed a little again when I seized his arm gently to examine the wound.

"It's from my fight with number 48 at Lab Five, it hasn't been healing well." He explained. "I'll have to try and wrap it up now that it's reopened again."

"Don't be stupid, I'll do it for you. You need two hands for something like this, and I think it'd be a little hard even for you, Mr. 'Fullmetal Alchemist.'" I protested.

"Well, there are some bandage strips over there," Edward said, pointing over his shoulder with his mechanized arm.

I retrieved them, and Edward sat on the edge of the bed. I pulled up a chair, and, armed with the spool of fabric, I set to work. Edward was still wearing nothing but the big, fluffy white towel, but I tried not to let that fact distract me. I placed the bandage gingerly but snugly over the wound, and wound the strip around it and under Edward's arm, but I needed to wrap some of it's length around his chest to keep it on securely. I'm saying this strictly from a professional point of view, but it was still something to have to reach around him — practically hugging his bare — and still slightly damp — torso. As I did, with my ear near his collarbone, I thought I heard his heart beat a litte faster, and I thought I heard him swallow audibly, but I mentally shook myself, saying it was my very impressionable imagination and that I just _wanted_ that to be true.

I tied and secured the bandage, tearing the end of the tied fabric from the spool with my teeth — I didn't see any scissors lying around — and rested my hand gingerly over the wound. _'Heal fast.' _I thought, willing it to happen.

"What are you doing?" Edward asked tentatively.

"I'm checking the tension on the bandages." I lied smoothly, then asked, "does it feel alright?"

"Yeah, in fact, it's feeling a lot better." Edward grinned.

"No problem. I know a bit of first aid here and there."

The grin softened. "Thanks. You've been doing nothing but trying to help all of us from the get-go."

"It's what I do." I said, dismissive.

"You said earlier you wanted to talk to me." Edward pointed out.

"Oh. Yeah, about that, there are a few things I want to talk to you about." I said, feeling a tad nervous.

"Like what?" Ed prompted.

"Well, I'm sure you've noticed there's something very... unusual about me." I began apprehensively.

"Yeah, I'm sure most people would label 'can read the future' as unusual." Edward said casually.

"That's not what I'm talking about. At least, not all of it." I continued insistently. "I'm betting you've noticed my... alchemic style is different from the usual, even different from yours."

Edward's expression grew grave. "Yes, I've noticed. Al told me a bit about when he ran into you at Lab Five. How you stopped Barry 'the Chopper' dead in his tracks without even forming a circle, and that's not all."

"Yeah." I sighed. "Well, here it goes. Edward, I don't use alchemy."

"Obviously," he interjected.

"I'm not sure how to describe it. It's not alchemy, it's some sort of power that.. that I'm born with. It's like..." I struggled for a term. "...like magic."

"Magic doesn't exist." Edward asserted.

"How's your arm?" I asked innocently.

Edward looked at me, looking surprised. "I don't see what that has to do—" then, he cut himself off as something seemed to dawn on him.

He tugged on the bandages without hesitating, parting them. Beneath, a large, red, puckered scar was already starting to form where the reopened wound once was.

"How did you—?" He began to ask, but I interrupted him.

"Magic doesn't exist?" I asked rhetorically, raising my eyebrows. My trump card; now he couldn't deny.

"Ok, I'll bite. So magic apparently does exist." He sighed.

"Oh, I don't think I'd call it magic, I guess I'd describe it as having the ability to influence things and people around me." I smiled devilishly.

Edward stared at me with wide eyes that were speculating ramifications of what I said.

"For instance, activating cells to start dividing and repairing themselves at a wound, or, a person's emotions and moods — basically their very actions — are influenced by two little chemicals: serotonin and dopamine. And if you adjust the levels, you could make them feel angry, sad, happy..." I lowered my voice and looked at him speculatively, "or even impassioned."

Edward went a little red at that, and I laughed, my mood lightening. "But taking advantage of people is unfair, and I refrain from doing that. Even so, at the moment, I'm not as influential as I have been — before, I could move things with my mind, but now," I sighed sadly, "it's a little be beyond me."

"Now, I have a question for you." Edward stated, the serious tone back in his voice. "Are you even human?"

His face was harsh and cold when I looked up to see his expression. I merely smiled, but it unnerved me a little.

"I'm not a Homunculus if that's what you're asking." I replied easily. "I'm most assuredly human. Anything I could do to prove it?" I proposed, leaning forward slightly to hear any reply he'd have.

Edward leaned back for a moment, surprised by my action, and I could see a bit of perspiration beading on his forehead. He smiled weakly, laughing nervously. "Nope, I believe you."

"Good, now the other thing I want to talk to you about is..." I faltered, uneasy. _'Oh great, now the hard part_..'

"What is it?" Edward asked, also seeming uneasy.

"Well, er, I think I know you pretty well, but I know you don't know a lot about me, and I know it must seem weird being around someone you don't know very well a lot..." I was stuttering at some points, and talking too fast at others, and I trailed off, at a loss for words and feeling unsure.

'_Ah! Dammit, it was easier to tell him I'm a freak!'_ I cursed to myself.

"... And— and I completely understand if you think I'm a freak, and you dislike me but—!" I started to talk again when he cut me off unexpectedly.

"I don't think you're a freak!" Edward protested insistently, "I mean, look at me, I'm the one with the freaky metal arms." He said, waving his automail arm around to illustrate his point. "And why would you think that? And what exactly are you trying to say?"

"I'm trying to say—!"

And at that exact, peak moment — there was a knock at the door. I jumped, and so did Edward, and we both shifted to look and zoned in on the door in horror.

"Brother, it's me, Al, what are you doing? Can I come in?" Al called from the other side of the door.

"I'm trying to say this!" I breathed hastily.

I put my hands on either side of his face and kissed him. When I let him go, the look on his face was one I'd remember for the rest of my life. His expression was stunned, and his face was red. The faintest trace of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Another knock at the door from Alphonse jarred him from his his reverie.

"Hide!" He whispered.

And before he could even finish saying that one simple word, I dove into the closet.

"Come in, Al." Edward called, though his voice did sound a little uneven.

I tried to control my breathing, and my heart felt like it was in my throat. Alphonse stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. How was I going to get out now? I couldn't just walk out of their closet as if that was _not_ completely bizarre and mosey on over to the door and show myself out.

"I just had a shower, I needed it. I'm all squeaky-clean." Edward said, trying to laugh, sounding conspicuous.

Alphonse was nothing if not observant. "Are you ok, Brother?"

"Actually no. I'm just nervous — I mean, what if we actually ran into Teacher?" Edward shuddered, and Al did the same.

"It feels kinda stuffy in here, I'll go open a window."

Edward stood up to do so, but Alphonse bade him to sit again. "I'll go open it."

As Al passed by, he seemed to notice something, and stopped. I froze.

"Hey, Ed, you bandaged that up on your own?" He asked, pointing to the bandage on Ed's arm.

"Uh, yeah, it wasn't easy though." He laughed, running a hand through his untied hair.

"Hmm, well that's good." Al commented, and continued over to the window, pulling back the curtains and throwing it open.

A faint breeze floated in, and reached me, even in the closet. It was still light outside, but the sun was setting fast.

"Thanks Al. I'm going to get dressed, we can't miss our train." Edward said, walking past the closet — giving an urgent look in my direction — and moving to another part of the room out of my line of vision.

Al still stood at the window, looking out at the buildings and trees and whatever else you'd expect to see outside of a window. Edward returned into view, with suitcase in hand.

"C'mon, Al." Edward said, making his way to the door with another covert look in my direction.

"Coming." Al said, closing the window and following his brother.

They left, closing — but thankfully not locking — the door behind them. I tip-toed out of the closet, and waited at the door with my ear pressed to it. I waited for the footsteps to fade until I couldn't hear them, then as soundlessly as possible, made my way back to my room, feeling flustered and effervescent.

* * *

**Holy crap! Finally, some of that well-loved, fanfiction sexual tension! And it only took seven chapters to get there! I think this is the longest chapter I've written yet, so read and review, people, I'll even accept comments like, 'OMGWTFBBQ?" and many other classics! **


	8. Numb

**I really feel that these disclaimers are unneeded and stupid, but the lawyers practically hold guns to your head until you put them in. I don't own Full Metal Alchemist, the only claim I can make is on my own character and her kitty cohort. Well, enjoy. **

What I Bargained For

Part Eight: Numb

_Bleeding now I'm  
Crying out I'm  
Falling down and I'm  
Feeling nothing like  
Laughing now I'm  
Stopping now I'm  
Reaching out and I'm  
Feeling nothing_

_I need this, give it back to me_

_Yeah, you have created a rift within me  
Now there have been several complications  
That have left me feeling nothing  
I might say, you were wrong to take it from me  
Left me feeling nothing_

_Crawling now I'm  
Beaten down I'm  
Tortured now and I'm  
Feeling nothing like  
Hunting now I'm  
Stalking now I'm  
Reaching out and I'm  
Killing nothing_

_I can feel you ripping and tearing  
Feeding and growing inside of me  
I want this, more than you know_

I sat in my room, staring, listless and blank, at the wall in front of me without even seeing it. I was waiting. It was still only sunset, and I had a few hours to endure. It left me too much time to face the hard questions. Sensing my black and isolated mood, Hope said nothing, but sat down beside me tolerantly.

'_What will happen if I don't make a difference? What if I make things worse? What if I die?' _

Being the coward I was, that last question was the hardest to face. What if I did die? Would it be too painful to stand? Where would I go? Someplace like last time? Or would I go to the Gate? Would I go to, of all places, to hell, or some variation of it? The last time I died, I was merely at a half-way point. I sighed to myself.

And what if I _did_ make things worse? Would more people be killed if I did? Would Edward and Alphonse even find their intended ending? That's something I couldn't accept. That, in hindsight, was worse for me than dying again, and facing what would become of someone — or something, like me.

It wasn't like any of this deliberating was going to change my actions. I was still going to try and save Hughes. I tried not to consider what would happen if I did save him, and I lived. The Homunculi would be averse to letting him live, and they'd just keep coming until everyone who knew the truth would be killed. I couldn't protect him forever, but I'd try to save him! I had to try. If not, then where would that leave me?

"I was intending to ask you why your friends were departing while you stayed behind when you returned, but seeing the mood you were in, I waited. _It's been three hours. I think I have waited long enough!_" Hope growled, just barely controlling herself.

"Has it been that long?" I asked dully, somewhat coming back to my senses. I was beginning to see the wall before me again. I blinked; my eyes felt dry.

"_Yes!_" She cried, exasperated. "I was getting worried — and irritated!"

I craned my neck to look out the window. I was dark. Instinctively, I _knew_ it was very near the time Hughes would encounter the Homunculus, Envy. I jumped up suddenly, my adrenaline kicking in.

"What is it?" Hope asked, immediately alert.

"If I don't come back, or if you don't hear from me, assume... assume I'm dead. Take all necessary precautions and risks." I told her with frigid practicality.

"What the hell are you talking about?!" She protested.

"It's an _order. _You're bound to me, aren't you? You have to listen to me, right? This is something I _have _to do." I commanded, without doubt now.

"Understood." Said Hope, solemn and acceding.

I made my way to the window in a quick dash, threw it open, and this time, no hasty leaps to the ground two stories down. I gripped the windowsill tightly, and lowered myself out until I was hanging down from the outside ledge. I let go, tucking and rolling into the landing, and this time, I didn't bust anything.

I ran through the dark streets, guided by something more ambiguous and powerful than memories or reason. I slowed to a noiseless walk, sticking close to dim corners and shadows until I reached the beginning of a street. _The _street. I slipped into a narrow alley.

I suddenly heard a door slam open and rushed footsteps. I peeked around the corner, my left eye the only part of me creeping past the shelter of the edge of the brick building's corner. I saw Maes Hughes and 'Lieutenant Ross' running down the street ahead of me about forty, fifty feet.

Perfect timing.

I could hear the faint mumble of Hughes's words from where I was, and he turned his head to look at 'her' while running, paused, and continued. He'd noticed something was wrong, but decided to press on. He held his injured shoulder as he went.

Foliage — bushes and trees— ran down the left side of the street, and the paved street dipped into the tree line creating an alcove with a telephone booth. I flitted across the narrow street into the bushes and held my place for a moment. Then, crawling between the tight lines of bushes near the curb and the looming trees to avoid making too much noise, I made my way forward. Slowly but quietly.

I crawled until there were a mere several, large, dark bushes between me and the murder-scene-to-be. Well, that would change if I had anything to say about it. I peeked throw a tiny gap in the leaves, careful not to move any. A single sound could be the death of me. I saw Hughes furiously trying to use the phone, with 'Lieutenant Ross' standing behind him 'on guard.'

That bastard Envy; I promised to myself I'd gut him by hand. Not that doing that would kill him or anything, but it would be a good way to exert my rage at him. I did _not _like Envy in the least.

I could hear what was being said.

"Dammit, this is taking too much time!" Maes cursed to himself. He was at the telephone booth and he was furiously dialing in the number for Eastern HQ, if I remember correctly. As he was ringing in the number, the picture of Hughes's family fell from his pocket. I saw Envy — as Lieutenant Ross— angle his/her head downward at the picture, and I knew, though I could quite see it, that the expression on that face was cold and stoic.

"What?! What do you mean he's gone?!" Hughes demanded into the phone.

There was a pause as Maes listened to the person on the other line. He hung up the phone irritably.

"Dammit, Roy, you're acting stupid again!" Hughes cursed. "With this information you could go straight to the top!"

"Lieutenant Colonel, we should go somewhere safe." 'Maria' suggested.

"Yeah, you're right." Maes agreed. "It's not like I've lost any evidence." And with that he proceeded out of the phone booth with 'Maria Ross' walking off in front of him a few steps.

"Now there's something I'd like to bring up with you." Maes stated, pulling out one of his small throwing knives. He reached out and rested the edge of the blade against Envy's throat. "Lieutenant Ross has a mole right beneath her left eye."

"Oh, is that so? How careless of me." Envy asked, turning around to face him. Hughes took a step back apprehensively, guarded.

'Ross' waved her fingers under her left eye, and with a swipe of light, a mole appeared there.

Maes, still with his throwing knife pointed straight out at — er, him? — he said, trying to act casual, "that's an amazing talent." His shock was still seeping through his expression though.

Then, in an instant, as 'Maria' reached inside her coat where her gun was, Maes struck with lightning-fast reflexes, and cut the imposter deeply across the throat. Blood spurted from the wound as 'Maria' fell backward. The body fell with a dull thump, and twitched and gurgled as it tried to move and breathe.

"I hope you'll forgive me, but I've got a wife and kid waiting for me back home." Maes said, and he turned to leave.

Envy got up, changing from Maria Ross to Gracia Hughes, Maes' wife. As he heard the crackle of Envy's transformation, he gasped and turned with his weapon raised, ready to fight.

"You're right, Hughes, maybe _this_ is a more fitting end." Envy said in the form of Gracia, a gun leveled and aimed at his chest.

_This _was the moment to strike. I launched myself from the bushes, aiming at Envy. Envy half-turned, and I tackled him, knocking the bastard to the ground. I could feel the barrel of the gun pressed into my right side, pinned between the two of us in the limited space, as I tried to pin Envy's arms to his side. The gun was still in his grip, I'd realized with a cold feeling washing over me.

"What the hell is this?! Who the hell are you?!" Envy demanded in Gracia's voice as I felt his grip on the trigger tighten.

I stomach felt like it bottomed out as the gun went off, discharging the bullet between my ribs and out the other side, leaving pain and heat searing in its wake. The pain was unimaginable, taking a bullet at point-blank rage like that. I froze, then writhed in agony as the pain shredded through my body. I clenched my teeth and held my eyes shut; I saw a red haze. I felt a hard kick to the middle of my stomach, and the air was forced out of me, and I rolled along the ground painfully. I grappled to fill my lungs with air, but there was a terrible gurgling and bubbling sound, and I couldn't seem to get any air in me. I clutched the wound and I felt the hot blood pouring out. I realized that the bubbling sound was coming from the wound. The bullet went through my lung, and blood was filling up in my lung and my abdominal cavity. As I tried to breathe in, the blood in my throat and lungs would gurgle. Blood came up my windpipe, and I coughed, the blood spattering on the ground around me like macabre flowers. A trickle of blood ran down the corner of my mouth; still warm.

'_What I stupid mistake, I'm going to die here now!' _I thought, feeling a panic rise through the pain and the haze.

I was lying face down, my blood pooling around me, feeling dizzy. Not only was I losing blood, but since my lung was punctured, I couldn't breathe well, that horrible gurgling sound was still emanating from my chest. I forced my eyes to open to slits, and I saw that Envy, as himself, now had several throwing knives lodged in him.

"So I assume you're one of the Homunculi Ed was talking about. Envy, I presume?" Hughes asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"I don't care how you know that, because you're going to die anyway!" Envy ranted, creating a spike from one of his arms.

Envy ran at Hughes, and Maes braced himself, ducking and crossing his arms in front of him. I raised a shaking hand, the other still holding the wound, and blew Envy away. I'd compressed the air until it heated and exploded. I could do that much right then. He glanced off the side of the telephone booth, breaking one of the panes of glass, tumbling wildly through the air and landing back in the trees.

I saw Maes run to me in my blurring vision and kneel next to me. I crawled somewhat onto my side, bracing myself against the ground with my forearms. I tried to take in a deep breath, but it felt like trying breathe underwater. My lungs heaved, and I coughed up more blood, but clearing some of the blood didn't help me breathe any better. I was gasping, drowning in my own blood.

"What the hell are you doing here, Clarissa?!" Maes demanded.

"I came to help." I rasped, coughing and wheezing.

"We need to get you to the hospital _now!_" He urged.

"No, _you _need to get out of here and get somewhere safe. I can handle myself." I tried to convince him, disgorging another round of blood.

"Are you crazy?!" He accused. "You're on the brink of death!"

"I'm better off against that bastard than you are. After all, you're only a regular human being. _This_ is what I came for, to try and stop. Envy _will _kill you if you don't leave now!" I begged.

I heard rustling and branches snapping; I turned my head with effort to try and see. Maes was instantly alert, standing up straight now. He turned and faced the returning Envy with a grim expression that blurred in my sight.

Envy stepped out from the bushes, just to the left and in front of the booth. He held his head in both hands, turning it this way and that with resounding crackling and popping sounds.

He sneered down at me. "You pack one hell of a punch, I'll give you that much, brat."

"Well thank you, but I'll look forward to shoving your own head up your ass." I spat.

I was able to force my knees under me, getting onto all fours, and then shakily standing on my own two feet, swaying. Envy watched me with amusement, arms crossed over his chest.

My left hand was clutching at the wound in my right side, and I could feel blood slowly seeping between my fingers. Maes slid smoothly in front of me between Envy and I.

Envy's mouth split into a wide, maniacal leer, his arm lengthening to a lance-like point. "Some rats are gonna die today..." he sneered.

"Maes! You idiot, get out of here! You'll die, and all of his will be for nothing!" I protested, grabbing his left arm with my right hand, trying to tug him out of the way.

"I won't leave a young lady to fight a monster like this on her own." Maes insisted tensely.

"_Now is not the time to be chivalrous!_" I shrieked, spitting up blood and cringing at the twinge of pain through my right side.

Envy dashed forward, Maes readied for his attack, and my efforts crumbled before me. A flash of anger raced through me in response to the fact that Maes still hadn't listened to me. I pushed forward, heaving all of my weight against against Hughes's right side, shoving him out of the way of Envy's lance. I was such a hopeless idiot.

The spear plunged into my right side, near my previous wound, ripping through my side, and a rib succumbed to the battery and force, breaking. A strangled, sputtering cry tore from my throat, blood leaving my lips. My eyes grew wide in shock, and even more blood drained from my face, leaving it paler. Talk about adding insult to injury.

Envy cackled maniacally as I fell, the impact with the ground was agonizing, and I gave a choked, unsuccessful gasp in reaction to having the air knocked out of me. Maes had jumped up to his feet and charged Envy, winding an arm back in preparation for a slashing attack with his throwing knife.

Envy hardly turned as he held out his spear-like arm, changing it's shape to lance forward. There was a horrible sound, a ripping, slicing, squelching noise, as Maes stopped dead in his tracks. I closed my eyes tightly against tears, pressing my forehead against, the cold, bloody ground.

Envy continued to cackle mercilessly, dementedly. He quieted somewhat, and I heard him step toward me with agonizing slowness. I tensed, unable to breathe, my mind swimming in a red haze, waited for him to deliver the finishing blow. There was a pause, and I felt a pain lance through my scalp, and I felt my head being lifted off the bloody ground. Blood dripped off my chin as I forced my eyes to open and I looked blankly and dully at the blurry image of a sneering Envy.

"Looks like all your pain and effort was for nothing, pathetic weakling. Sad isn't it?" He patronized me.

"Shove it up your ass, you sick bastard." I rasped, then heaved up blood, coughing and spitting helplessly. I tried to lob a hunk a spit at his face, but I missed, and Envy didn't bat an eyelash at my pathetic attempt.

"That's painful, isn't it?" Envy asked, laughing. He pointed to the wound, now larger, that I was desperately clutching to in an effort to slow the bleeding. "I'll just let you bleed out tragically, sound like fun?"

I didn't respond, and he let go of my knotted, bloody hair, my face smacking painfully into the wet ground. I flinched. Suddenly, Envy planted a kick in my stomach, sending me rolling and coughing; I didn't have the strength to scream anymore. As I came to a stop, I curled in on myself as tightly as I could.

"See you around, little pipsqueak." Envy said as a farewell. It was silent after that.

I tried to stay awake, but everything was getting dark. I needed to do something! I focused on my torn lung, and the broken rib, and it was excruciatingly hard to concentrate. I just barely managed to stitch myself together on the inside, hardly fusing the rib into one piece again and the lung was shabbily patched. I didn't have enough strength to finish the rest and heal the skin, muscle, and soft tissues. I clutched at my screaming, raw side, blood still seeping, though more slowly, from the injury.

I lifted my head, looked at the body of Maes Hughes. He's dead, despite all I did, despite how hard I tried I failed, and now, I might die.

'_Die. _Me. _I could... die. I can't let that happen... I absolutely... won't allow it! God dammit! I'm so sorry, Maes. I couldn't save you. But now, I have to save myself. Please forgive me.' _

Reaching into some hidden reserve of willpower, I dragged myself to my knees, and with one arm wrapped around my injury, I was able to crawl on three limbs away from the gruesome scene, out of the alcove, and drag myself down the street. By some miracle, I was able to crawl back to the headquarters, under the window of my room. I looked up hopelessly. I was barely able to get back there, how was I going to scale up two straight stories and crawl through a window?

As I was lamenting my situation, Hope leaped up into my view upon the windowsill. I heard her cry out in shock, but I couldn't quite catch what she'd said.

"Hope, please help me... Somehow..." I pleaded, and everything I saw was going blurry and grey.

Suddenly, I felt myself being lifted up. I was raised until my feet were brushed limply against the ground, blood from my wound spattering audibly in the dirt. But I didn't stop there; somehow, I was lifted clear off the ground, up along the wall of the building, and up to window level. I could see anything, even though my eyes were open, I think. Then I felt my shins and feet grazed the edge of the windowsill and I felt myself being laid down gently on the floor of the room. I sighed, and everything went black.

When I woke up, I found myself on the bed of my room. I started, tensing, remembering what happened, I reached down to put a hand over my wound to stop the bleeding, but instead, I felt blood-dampened bandages. I raised my head to look over at the window, and I saw that the large pool of blood that should be beneath it and smeared across the floor was gone.

I sat up, and my side was stabbed with pain, and I winced, laying back down. I saw Hope looking at with relief and concern from the end of the bed.

"How did you...?" I asked drowsily, "how did you wrap me up and clean all of that blood up by yourself?"

Hope looked at me, not answering. There was a pause, and I realized something else to add to that list.

"And how did you lift me all the way up here?"

"You think you're the only one who can do extraordinary things?" Hope asked me slyly, seeming a little smug.

I didn't respond. I hadn't really thought about what she might have been capable of; it never really came up. It had caught me off guard. Hope only ever told me once how she was bonded into the service of my predecessors.

"You said you were a... demon... at some point, right?" I asked to confirm.

"Yes, although your human view of demons is not so accurate. I am not one of the denizens of hell, as most people seem to think." Hope clarified.

"Ah. So... how would _you _describe a... er, demon?" I requested.

"Imagine if you will, a demon as electricity, air, and water blended and coalesced into one sentient immortal force of will." She said seamlessly and with a blase expression.

"Wha...?"

"Never mind." Hope said with an exasperated sigh.

"If you say so." I said, trying to sit up in bed. The pain forced the air from my lungs and I had to lay back down again. I gritted my teeth against the stabbing sensation.

"Careful! I wasn't able to fully repair the rest of your wound." Hope reprimanded.

I balled my fists, clenching my teeth and forced myself to sit up fully, flinching from the pain as tears stung in my eyes. This was so much harder than I anticipated. That was pathetic! If Envy hadn't just toyed around with me and wanted me dead, I would've died — I almost had! I was frustrated with myself; I still didn't have the physical strength or skill needed to survive a fight, at least, not a fight against someone of the Homunculi's caliber!

I swung my legs off of the bed, holding myself around the middle, my hands still balled in fists. I rested my weight on my feet and raised myself from the bed.

"What are you doing? Even though your injuries _are _mostly healed, you shouldn't be moving around in your condition! The surface of your wound hasn't been properly repaired yet, and even the rest of it must have time to properly fuse!" Hope protested.

"I... refuse to be... _weak._" I snapped through my clenched teeth. "I have somewhere I need to be, and I won't let myself slack around feeling sorry for myself!"

I managed to find some paper and a fountain pen, and was able to scrawl down I quick message

_Lt. Colonel Mustang_

_I've gone after the Elrics. If you need me, I'm sure you will be able to find me, Sparky. _

_Clarissa Tailor_

"What a short note... And you gave a high-ranking commanding officer a nickname..." Hope commented, reading over my shoulder. "Are you sure you shouldn't tell him about what happened?"

"No, I wouldn't be able to explain. I can't face him just yet." I evaded, being the coward that I was.

"But with your departure, and blood trail leading away from the crime scene to practically right under your window—"

"I know! I just... can't. Not right now. I've got things I have to do." I interrupted hastily; harshly. I sighed, running a hand through my hair in distress. Surprisingly, it wasn't knotted anymore, and there wasn't any blood left in it.

"You mean you have people you want to be near." Hope corrected. To me, it sounded something akin to an accusation.

I didn't answer to her, and I wasn't going to own up to my faults and mistakes just then, my pride and my self-worth were already on the ropes. I folded the sheet of paper so that 'Lt. Colonel Mustang' were the only words visible. I left it in easy view on the low table, the bright, white paper standing out from the dark grain of the wood.

I grabbed my long coat, draping it across my back and shoulders without slipping my arms into the sleeves. I still held onto my injured side, and I gripped my suitcase by the handle and hefted it along. Hope unwillingly trailed along beside me and we exited the room, leaving the door mostly open.

I slipped quietly out of headquarters, going unnoticed by a handful of inattentive soldiers on the graveyard shift. The sun was just barely on the rise. It was hard, painful, to breathe still, but there certainly wasn't anything I could do about that right then.

"I'm being really stupid," I admitted, sighing painfully.

"You are." Hope conceded. "But I can't be the one to change your mind or tell you what to do. Only you can learn from your mistakes, and you must learn the lessons on your own."

"You know," I paused to take a tormented breath, " you remind me of my mother sometimes."

Hope seemed thoughtful about the simple statement, although she didn't comment on it. There was a pause, and then she spoke. "Do you miss her?"

"Yeah, sometimes." I said wistfully. We were making our way to Central Station as quickly as we could, despite that it felt to me as if we were traveling at a snail-crawl pace. "Let's try to hurry."

"If you say so." Hope responded as we quickened our pace.

When we reached Central Station, the pang I felt in my injured side was unending, and I was feeling edgy; the sun was beginning to rise over the buildings of the city. I approached a greying man at a ticket booth in the terminal, trying to keep Hope out of sight. He seemed exhausted, of course, because it was practically the crack of dawn. Working shifts like that must suck.

"Taking a train this early, young lady?" he asked me, trying to cover up a small yawn.

"Yeah, there's somewhere I have to be." I replied, shifting the grip on my suitcase. The motion set off a jab of pain, and I gritted my teeth trying not to let on that something was wrong. "One ticket for a train heading South, preferably to Rush Valley, if you please." I asked airily, trying for an easy smile.

"Sure, that'll be twenty-five Sens." He said, producing a ticket and handing it to me through the opening in the glass of the booth. "Train number twenty-one, right over there, and it leaves in three minutes."

"Thank you." I responded, turning so that I was between the man's line of vision and Hope, and proceeded to the train.

I boarded, walking down a sparsely occupied train car, and chose a booth with no one sitting in the one across from it. I sat, and Hope — who'd gone more-or-less unnoticed by the half-asleep passengers — leapt up onto the seat next to me, nearer to the window. Realizing I still held my suitcase in-hand, I stood and reached to try and put it on the luggage rack overhead. Agony lanced through my side, and my arm shot around my torso as if to keep me from splitting in half. I doubled over, and the suitcase slipped out of my grip and landed home on the opposite seat of the booth.

"Damn," I cursed tightly, letting myself fall heavily back into my seat.

The wound stung more now than it had before; it must have reopened. I began to feel a little blood seep through the bandages against my skin. This was really starting to piss me off.

"Are you alright?" Hope asked me in a stifled, restrained voice.

"No." I answered bluntly. "But I can't do anything about it, can I?"

What happened to the good old days where I could cure cancer, or life-long illness on a whim? I missed them. That would be where I sighed fancifully and reminisced, just so you know.

I glared at the suitcase. "I'm leaving it there." I mumbled irritably. _'Stupid suitcase. I wanna set it on fire... but then that wouldn't be good. Dammit.'_

The ticket collector came by, and Hope hid under the seat while I gave him my ticket and he ripped it in half and gave me the stub left behind. I stuffed it into my pocket.

I sighed painfully, and settled into the long, boring, hours-long ride. I'd fallen asleep — for who knows how long — and was rather enjoying my nap when something woke me up. At first I thought it was Hope, but as I was roused from my slumber, I saw that it wasn't, in fact, Hope. I turned slightly to look over the back of my booth, and saw a little girl peeking curiously over the seat. She looked to be about five years old. What was a kid doing on a train that was travelling so early?

I looked out the window and saw it was no longer to break of dawn. It looked to be about past the break of said dawn. It also looked like I spent most of the day on the train, sleeping ... maybe. I wasn't sure.

Her eyes fell on Hope and they lit up. "Kitty!" She exclaimed, beaming from ear to ear.

I swear a could hear Hope's stomach dropping into the her little kitty ankles. I would've laughed... if it didn't hurt so much right then.

The girl pouted accusingly. "You know, you're not allowed to have kitties on the twain."

"Well, don't tell anyone, ok?" I pleaded quietly, putting my index finger to my mouth to illustrate my point. Over the back of the seat, I spied whom I assumed was the little girl's mother, absorbed in a newspaper.

"Only if you let me pet him!" She declared.

"Sure!" I said, not pausing a moment to think or object.

Before Hope could scamper away, I snatched her up, pretending to ignore the dirty look she gave me, and held her out to the girl. Hope struggled to get out of my secure grip, but the girl didn't seem to notice her unwillingness as she petted her gleefully.

"Anne, you shouldn't bother the other people on the train." The girl's mother reprimanded her gently.

"Sorry Momma." Anne apologized, sitting back down in her seat.

I set Hope down on the seat, and she shook out her fur distastefully. She glared at me. "You didn't have to do that." She said, keping her voice low, sounding prickly.

"Oh, don't be such a sour puss." I admonished her lightly. I paused, realizing the pun, and started snickering.

Hope wasn't impressed.

I went back to sleep, napping for a little while more, and when I was awoken this time, it was by neither a cat nor a little girl. The train had come to a stop and a faint commotion rose up as people disembarked. I looked out the window to see that the sun was beginning to set. I panicked for a moment, thinking I might have missed my stop, or I might have taken the wrong train. But I realized that traveling from Central City all the way down to Rush Valley in the South would take more than several hours. Ergo, if traveling to Rush Valley took about a day, and since Edward and Co. left in the afternoon yesterday, they would have arrived at Rush Valley at midday today. Then I, leaving at dawn, would get there at about nightfall today. And since it was nearly nightfall, I was nearly there. At least, I hope my math was correct. I was never the best at it...

I calmed myself, and resettled in my seat. Hope awoke a moment from dozing on the seat to ask me what was wrong, I explained and she went back to sleep. It was a tough several hours; I was antsy, high-strung, and eager to reach Rush Valley. I crossed my arms angrily — but tentatively— over my chest, tapping my foot. The sun seemed to set too fast, and the train didn't seem to move fast enough.

But eventually, as night was creeping in, the town of Rush Valley bloomed into the picture. I beamed. _'Finally!'_ I thought impatiently.

As the train screeched to a halt at the platform, I jumped from my seat as quickly as I could — allowing for my injury — and the movement jarred Hope. She awoke, instantly alert, and jumped down lightly from the seat. I came up behind a wave of passengers, Hope walking close to my ankles as to not be tread on by wayward feet, and I approached the nearest exit of the train car.

"Hey," a train attendant protested as I was stepping off the train. "You can't bring animals on here!"

I was already retreating across the shadowy platform with my kitty companion, feeling quite daring. I ran through the crowd as fast as my luggage and impairment would allow. I spied a high outcropping of the town at its edge, and I could have sworn I saw two blobs that looked like Edward and Alphonse.

I ran in that direction, climbing the steep incline up along the outcropping until I reached the top, in pain and out of breath.

"What the hell... holy crap, it's Clarissa." Edward said as looked up to see me in view, astonished.

"Oh, hello, Clarissa." Alphonse said kindly.

"Looking for Winry?" I asked.

"Yeah." Alphonse answered,

"I just don't want her getting into trouble." Edward grumbled, rubbing the lump on his head that I knew was from Winry wacking him with her wrench. He sounded like he'd rather she stay lost.

"Well, don't worry, she's fine. Remember that girl at the arm wrestling contest? She's staying with her tonight." I explained, my luggage thumped loudly as I put it down to give my arm a rest.

"Oh, you don't say," Edward muttered, sounding a tad surprised. "We were just about to head back into town to look for her."

"Well, go anyway, you'll run into her." I assured.

And so we wandered around town until the sun came up, when Edward had flopped down onto a bench — and me with him. Of course, Al never got tired or sore, so he didn't feel the need to sit.

My side was killing me, all that walking and moving around seemed to stop it from healing quickly. Hope sat nearby, impassively cleaning herself. I I wiped away a few beads of sweat that collected there. The movement caused a pang in my side, and I winced.

Noticing this, Edward asked, "hey, are you alright?"

I tried to smile. "Yeah, just sore, that's all."

Edward sighed. "Are you sure she'll be here?"

"Positive." I replied, stealthily exploring my bandaged side with tentative fingers.

"Hey!" Came a call from down the way. It was Winry, running to us, with Paninya following. They came to a stop in front of us and Winry continued breathlessly, "good, we found you."

"You found us? We looked for you all night!" He didn't add that he knew she would be safe and that he'd find her.

"Oh, so you're here, too." Winry noted, seeing rise from the bench with Edward and Al. "Sorry, I kinda did lose track of time... and my temper."

"Hey there," greeted Paninya, waving casually to us.

"The girl from the contest," Al said.

"Her name is Paninya, and she was nice enough to let me stay at her place last night." Winry explained, though we already knew, unbeknownst to her.

"So, ah, Edward..." Winry began.

"Yeah?" He asked.

I knew what was coming.

"Can I see your pocket watch?" Winry pleaded.

"And why should I do that?" Edward asked suspiciously.

"_Please._" She asked.

"Ok, but you can only look this time—" Edward began as I said at the same time, "I don't think that's a good—"

As Edward had been pulling out his pocket watch and holding it up in the palm of his hand, Paninya snatched it from him without warning. Then, she dashed away to a stack of crates against the wall of a building, stepped up them, and propelled herself onto the roof. She looked down triumphantly.

"Thanks a lot!" She announced, holding up the watch with a wide grin.

"What are you doing?!" Edward demanded.

"It's you against her," Winry interjected. "If you can snatch your precious watch back before she makes it to the pawnshop then you win."

Paninya snickered. "Come and get it, little man, if you think you can take me!" She declared then ran away across the roof of the building.

"What the hell?" Edward cursed. "Winry!"

"Better run if you don't want that watch to get hawked." Winry said smugly. "And no cheating this time."

Edward growled angrily and set off after Paninya.

"Brother," Al said, reaching forward as if to stop, or follow, him.

'_Screw it, I'm not bothering.' _I thought grumpily, shuffling back to the bench and sitting down. Hope leapt up beside me, eyeing me intently.

"Winry, why would you do that?" Al demanded of her.

"It's simple. I want Ed to gain some appreciation for good auto-mail." She responded.

We watched the chase from afar for a while, then suddenly, there was an explosion; a plume of smoke rose from between some buildings.

"I think she went a little overboard," Winry said apprehensively, spying the cloud.

"What?" Al asked, nervous.

The three of us ran forward, looking for them.

We came upon them, just as Edward was saying, "I've got no idea what you were trying to prove by that, but you weren't going to beat me. I've got the best auto-mail in the world."

Winry smiled to herself, looking pleased, I could see.

After this little ordeal, we went with Paninya to Dominic's shop, Dominic being her foster-father and the mechanic who gave her the auto-mail limbs she had. Edward and Winry decided to head back to the hotel room they were staying at, and I decided to stay with Al. It worked for my plan anyway, concerning a certain someone that was looking for the Elrics. I was standing with Alphonse and Paninya, Hope standing proudly by my left foot, just having a little bit of casual conversation.

"I just wanted to prove how great Dominic's auto-mail was." Paninya was saying; admitting her reasons with a sigh.

"Foolish child," Dominic sighed as he entered the room, Al and I greeted him respectfully, and he waved at the greetings wearily, "you don't need to prove anything."

"Yeah, but—"Paninya began, but Dominic cut her off.

"Take note..." he said, launching into a heartfelt speech about how it wasn't auto-mail, it was _her _arm, and _her _leg. I'd already heard it before, so I pretty much zoned out. But it _was _a very heartfelt speech, I'll have you know.

"I get it, you build auto-mail as an extension of the person's soul," Alphonse spoke up, "and in time, it becomes a part of who they are."

"It's really true. When I could finally stand up again, it was the first time I felt complete, in a long while.." Paninya added, reminiscing happily.

When all the talking was done, Al, Hope and I exited the shop, making our way down the narrow alley that connected it to the main street. When we turned the corner, we saw Izumi Curtis and her husband consulting a shop owner about two select people whom I knew were the brothers. Al recognized them too, and gasped.

"Al, stall them for a few minutes, please!" I asked, knowing that either way they'd make it to the hotel. "Try to get them to take a longer route."

"What are you planning?" He asked, turning to me.

"Please, Al, just do it for me?" I begged, then I dashed across the street into an alley on the other side, taking a shortcut to the hotel.

I ran as fast as my suitcase and my injury would allow. It occurred to me that I'd been doing this a lot recently. The running and all that. Hope was running beside me, keeping up easily as she always did.

"What do you plan on doing?" Hope asked me, now that we weren't in the presence of others.

"I plan on giving an early warning." I responded cryptically, and declining to explain further.

Nothing else was said as we raced down back streets and finally came upon the small, squat building of the hotel. No time to use the door. The window to their room was ground level and right out front. I could see it growing larger as I neared it. I barely came to a stop before I reached to window — well, more like 'smacked audibly' into the window — and pushed it inward and open.

Edward and Winry looked up, apparently, I interrupted their rather serious conversation. Too bad.

"Edward, Teacher's here! Run!" I yelled, wasting no time with questions like, 'why are you acting like a madwoman?', or 'why aren't you using the front door?', oh no, not me, no way.

Edward seemed to pass out for a second, then he jumped up in a panic from the couch he was sitting on, and I moved out of the way to clear a path. He jumped out the window without hesitation. We bolted down the street without any uncertainty.

From the window, I could hear Winry call out, "hey!"

We'd been running for about a minute when we saw Alphonse pull up behind us.

"Hey wait, Al, weren't you with Izumi and her husband to stall her a little?" I asked suspiciously.

"Yeah." Al said, nervous.

There was a tense pause as we were all running.

"Well, where are they now?" I asked apprehensively.

Alphonse hesitated. "Uhm, about forty feet behind us..."

"What?!" Edward and I demanded incredulously.

We looked behind us and saw he was telling the truth. Izumi was blazing a path down the street, and we cried out in shock and fear. I also saw on my glance behind us that Winry was standing meekly next to Izumi's hulking husband, Sig, who apparently declined in giving chase, and Hope lingered there nearby.

But that was the last time I looked back, the look on Izumi's face was terrifying, and sent chills down my spine. I tried to push myself to go faster, but there wasn't much I could do. I could see that Edward was trying to eke out as much speed from his legs as he could.

Then she spoke. A voice I would remember until the day I died. It was the voice of death. And death was very pissed off. _"EDWARD, ALPHONSE, WHEN I CATCH YOU, YOU'RE GOING TO BE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE!" _

Edward looked like he was about to keel over. People's hearts don't usually give out at sixteen, but I know a few things that would do it, for instance, being pursued by that horrifying woman. As I was hoping that Edward wouldn't keel over, he did just that. A rock had appeared in Ed's way, and because he was so focused on not dying, he didn't see it. Damn those random rocks that are just left lying in the middle of the road when people are trying to escape certain _DOOM!_

Needless to say, Edward went flying, and hit the road tumbling head-over-heels with a shout.

"Brother!" Al called out, but the momentum of his heavy armor suit prevented him from stopping quickly enough to help him.

"Edward!" I cried fearfully, rushing to his aid. I came to a stop next to him, though my legs told me to keep running, and leaned down to help him, offering a hand. Edward took my hand, and just as I was about to help him to his feet, when we all turned our heads to see Izumi, having reached us by then, slow to a halt, and loom ominously over Edward, Al—who was finally coming to a full stop behind us— and me. There were collective, audible gulps of sheer terror.

"And who is this?" Izumi asked blackly, but before Edward or Alphonse could give an answer, I substituted one of my own.

"Oh, I'm just a call girl they hired from the brothel downtown." I said, casually cynical.

Edward and Alphonse looked at me in dismay and astonishment, and looked back to Izumi in pure fear.

"A call girl?" Izumi echoed, eyeing us dangerously. Suddenly, she grabbed Edward— the only brother within reach at that moment— by the collar, causing him to yelp, and yanked him to his feet. In fact his toes dragged in the dirt of the road. "You hired a call girl?!" She growled, practically baring her teeth.

"Teacher, please, put him down!" Al pleaded.

"I was kidding! I'm not a hooker! You think they'd have done something like that?" I yelled, acting more fearless than I felt. "And besides, do I _look_ like a prostitute?" I demanded angrily.

Izumi turned her attention from verbally chewing out Edward to me. She took in my rather tall, lace-up boots; tight black pants; and long, trench-like coat. Her look was bemused and speculative. There was a pause.

"Ok, don't answer that — but I'm not!" I insisted. _'Jeez, this'll be the last time I'm ever making a joke near her.'_

She let go of Edward's collar, letting him drop flat on his face with a second yelp; I winced on the impact. An "ow" emanated from his face which was flat down in the dirt. She eyed me critically.

"Then who are you, and why are you traveling with my students?" She snapped.

"My name's Clarissa Tailor, and I'm here to help them." I explained simply, if not nervously.

"I see." She said darkly, her eyes narrowing. She turned back to address her husband. "Let's go, honey."

Sig grunted and nodded in reply, guiding Winry, who walked ahead of him. Hope trailed along behind them, and Sig looked at her curiously, but said nothing. When he'd reached our scared little grouping, Izumi looked down at the cat emphatically.

"What's this?" She asked dryly.

"That's my cat. She travels with me wherever I go." I answered, and Hope walked to me, sitting by my ankles.

Izumi hadn't taken her gaze off of Hope. "Does it have a name?" She asked with disinterest.

"Yeah, it's a _she_, not an _it, _and her name is Hope." I answered unyieldingly, crossing my arms over my chest in a show of defiance.

"It might be a problem on the train, but oh well..." Izumi said, mostly to herself.

By this time, Edward had gotten unsteadily to his feet. Izumi seized him by the braid — ouch — and the left wrist of Al's armor in the same hand. Then, she grabbed my wrist, and started walking, dragging all of us behind her.

There were choruses of, "hey", "ouch", and "what are you doing?" from all of us.

I turned my head to see Hope following beside me, a wary and perplexed look in her eyes. Sig followed behind, avoiding such measures with Winry, and surprisingly, carrying our luggage like it was packed with foam— well, it's not like we had it with us, and there was no persuading to be done with Izumi.

My wrist ached from being dragged by it, but I didn't dare complain. Besides, Ed had it worse; he was being dragged by his hair. I could hear him muttering "ow, ow, ow" all the way, and I didn't blame him. In fact, I silently congratulated him that he had such resolve. Luckily it wasn't that far to the train station from here.

This was going to be one hell of a train ride. And I didn't even have a will written out.

**

* * *

****And there you have it! Part number eight people! How'd you like it? Be kind, and click that pretty purple button and send me a comment! **


	9. Broken Wings

**Sorry I haven't updated in... MONTHS(!) but I hope you'll under stand when you see this massive chapter. And I don't own FMA. I can't say much more than that. **

What I Bargained For

Part Nine: Broken Wings

_Thank you for being such a friend to me  
Oh, I pray a friend for life  
And have I ever told you how much you mean to me  
Oh, you mean so much to me  
I'm thinking all the time  
How to tell you what I feel  
I'm contemplating phrases  
I'm gazing at eternity  
I am floating in serenity_

_And I am so lost for words  
And I am so overwhelmed_

_Please don't go just yet  
Can you stay a moment please  
We can dance together  
We can dance forever_

_Under your stars tonight  
We'll live and breathe this dream_

_So close your eyes  
but don't dream too deep  
And please pass me some memories  
And when I fall you're underneath  
A thousand broken hearts  
Carried by a thousand broken wings_

"Are you sure you're going to be alright?" Winry asked.

Izumi had carted us onto a train, but not before giving Ed and Al a good thrashing and tying them up. Unfortunately, I was tied up too, with the brothers sitting of the same seat to my left. I suspected it was because of my little joke, which in hindsight was not a very smart thing to say. Edward and Alphonse were tied together, and my hands were tied behind my back, and so were my ankles. Winry got off scot-free, lucky little... of course, she didn't 'do anything wrong.' But I mean, come on, all _I_ did was joke around... and back-talk Izumi... and... yeah, I see what went wrong.

Hope had been snuck onto the train quite casually, and she sat next to Winry, considering there was much more room than on the seat I was sitting. Although Hope inclined to sit on the same seat, there still was a significant distance between my furry little supervisor and the girl mechanic.

"Yeah, we just didn't expect her to come looking for us." Alphonse answered.

"Damn it," Edward swore, "she took my watch, and I can't exactly say I'm comfortable like this. It looks like we're headed directly for Dublith, too."

"I'm kind of surprised," Winry admitted, "for some reason, I always figured your alchemy teacher would be some old crone, but she's a beautiful lady."

"A bad present in pretty wrapping," I muttered, mostly to myself.

"How are you surprised, you met her years ago, Winry." Edward said.

"We first became her students in Risembool, back when we were boys."

"I don't remember that." Winry said.

"Yeah, people usually tend to repress unpleasant memories." I had been muttering again, and this time they heard me.

"I'm sure she isn't that bad," Winry said, though she didn't _seem_ sure.

"No, she isn't that bad," Edward interpolated, "when she isn't beating the crap out of us." He finished with a huff.

"Anyway, I'm sure you remember her, it was that day when it wouldn't stop raining." Alphonse told her, picking up where the conversation had left off.

"Oh yeah, I remember," Winry said.

Ed and Al were working out of their binds. And so was I; with my hands tied behind my back, I scooted them under me until they were behind my knees, then put one leg in after the other through the loop of my arms. The end result was me with my tied hands in front of me; now this was something could work with. I grabbed one of the loops of rope from around my wrist with me teeth and tugged it off, with a little effort. Apparently, Izumi was skilled at tying people up. Finally my arms were free, but my feet were still tied, and that was the real challenge.

It was tied too well, and the ropes wouldn't slip off. "Damn, does anybody have something sharp?"

Edward and Al had gotten out of their bonds before me, apparently, they had experience in getting tied up. The ropes fell away around them, and Edward stretched his arms in satisfaction.

"Sure," he said to me. "Coming right up."

He clapped his hands together, and ran his left hand over the back of his auto-mail arm, lengthening the forearm plate into a blade.

"Oh, and Edward," I said with mock seriousness, "if you damage these boots, you're paying for them."

"I'll keep that in mind," he informed, cutting through the ropes with ease. And not a single mark on the boots. He was good.

"Thanks," I said appreciatively, flexing my ankles.

"No problem," he said, returning his auto-mail to normal, "come on, let's move out."

He dashed for the compartment door with Al and I following him. As he stepped out into the corridor, I cried out.

"Edward, duck!" I declared, grabbing him and pulling him down by the shoulders into a crouch.

His watch sailed over our heads with deadly speed and accuracy, and it would've hit him straight in the forehead. But instead, it soared though the air and fell to the floor of the corridor, skidding to a stop.

"Holy crap," Edward muttered under his breath. "Thanks."

"Just returning the favor." I replied.

We looked up to see Izumi and her husband standing behind her.

"All that work, and you still haven't learned a thing, have you, boys?" Izumi demanded.

Edward didn't reply, he looked like death had come a-knocking, which pretty much was the situation. Sneakily, I scooted back and grabbed Edward's watch. I looked up and saw that Izumi was chewing the brothers out for trying to make a getaway, so, with no other choice, I put the watch in my pocket to give back to Edward when I had a chance.

I stood up and saw Izumi, who had seized Edward by the ear this time, and Alphonse, again by the wrist, come up to me. I could feel the blood drain from my face.

"And you, young lady, need to learn some respect for your elders." Izumi said to me, her eyes narrowed dangerously. It sounded like a death threat.

Then, with her husband opening the door to our compartment and revealing a surprised-looking Winry, Izumi planted her foot securely to my backside and launched me into the compartment.

I flew through the air and landed on my right side with a weary cry of pain, sprawled over the floor of the compartment. She tossed Alphonse in next, and to my thankfulness and relief, he landed on the empty seat, and not me. Then his arm collided with the back of my head, and I felt less thankful and more in pain. I'd heard him say, "sorry," though. Always so nice.

Izumi, who now had Edward by the scruff of the neck, tossed him in last. The door closed in a definitive clack behind him. And this time, I wasn't so lucky.

"Agh! Your knee is in my ribs! And it's your metal knee!" I cried out, being crushed and jabbed here and there.

"Your elbow's in my face!" Ed retorted, his voice distorted by my elbow that was lodged in his cheek.

"I didn't think trying to escape would be a good idea." Winry sighed, still sitting un-tossed-around and unbeaten.

Edward, sprawled in a heap over the sprawled heap that was me, was putting aching pressure on my injured sighed, so I rolled onto my back, and planted a foot to his stomach.

"Clarissa, wait—"

But before he could finish, I shoved him off with said implanted foot, catapulting him somewhat lopsidedly onto the seat Winry was also sitting on. My foot thunked to the floor, and I sat up, one arm wrapped tightly around my damaged side. I heaved myself up onto the seat with Alphonse, sitting opposite to Edward.

"I'm going to have a few choice words for that teacher of yours." I grumbled.

"You sure pack a punch," Edward mumbled, rubbing his stomach briefly, I suspected to brush off the dirt from my boot, because I didn't seem to have hurt him. "Or should I say a kick."

"Sorry, but you kinda caught me in a sensitive spot." I apologized, patting my injured side delicately to indicate the area.

"Yeah, about that," Edward began, "I've been meaning to ask you what's wrong."

"Oh, it's nothing, just got a little banged up dealing with some punk back in Central," I lied. Well, it was mostly a lie. I _had been_dealing with a punk in Cental; it's just that the punk was Envy and he nearly killed me. He killed Hughes, which still hit me below the belt, emotionally.

Edward huffed in mild exasperation, "well be careful, sheesh, you've got me worrying about you." He rested his elbow on a knee, scratching the back of his head with his real hand, and sighed.

"You were doing something dangerous in Central?" Winry asked me, concerned.

I laughed nervously, unwilling to answer.

"So _that_'s why you stayed behind in Central?" Alphonse was interrogating me now.

"No, not exactly—come on, guys, lay off, would you?" I protested weakly, raising my hands palms-out in surrender. "I was helping out a friend, and it kind of backfired." I sighed, a little sadly, and lowered my hands.

"Yeah, come on, leave her be. If she doesn't wanna talk about it, she doesn't wanna talk about it." Edward said, adopting a laid-back pose and tone. He had leaned back, slumping a little in the seat; he rested his hands behind his head, eyes closed. He was trying too hard to look casual, and I could see the slight tension in his forehead and jaw.

"I actually was thinking about talking to you about that sometime," I began, speaking to Ed.

Edward opened his eyes to me with a "hm?" He sat up, looking curious. "About what happened to you in Central?"

"No," I replied, "about the whole 'getting beat up' part. I was thinking you could maybe teach me a little bit about fighting."

"You could go to Teacher, she'd could teach you a lot better than I could..." Edward said pensively, resting his chin between his forefinger and thumb.

"But she'd hurt me..." I whimpered, hugging myself in fear.

"True." Edward admitted with a shiver, probably remembering his own training.

Then, the train screeched to a stop.

"Oh joy, we're here." I said in a hollow tone.

There were heavy footsteps at the door, and when it slammed open, Alphonse and I huddled as close to the window — and as far from the door — as possible, while Edward tried to hide behind Winry and use her as a human shield.

"Stop cowering like frightened children and get out; this is our stop." Izumi said sharply, and we grabbed our bags and reluctantly left the safety of the compartment.

We walked, trailing unwillingly behind the frightening married couple. Following them out from the train — and in the big group, Hope was scarcely noticed by anyone — and this routine would continue until we reached the Curtis household.

"So much for our escape plan," Alphonse sighed, looking apprehensive — as apprehensive a suit of armor can be.

"I know; I've got chills just thinking about what she's gonna do to us now." Edward shuddered, rubbing his arms as if to keep himself warm.

"Yeah," Alphonse sighed in distress.

As we were passing a house with a low, wrought-ion fence, a girl ran towards Izumi, who was leading the group."Teacher!" Came a young, small voice, and with it the little girl.

"Hey there, Manny, so how's Chico doing?" Izumi asked rather sweetly, bending down and resting her hands on her knees.

"She's going to have babies soon," Manny said, looking back at the litter-laden cat sleeping on the doorstep of the house.

"Goodness, your house is going to be crowded." Izumi remarked with a smile.

"Izumi!" Called Mason, the man that worked at the Curtis's meat shop. "You're back!"

We turned and he walked forward, an undefined burlap sack of something hefted over his shoulder.

"Hey there, Mason!" Greeted Edward, approaching him.

"Is that you, Edward?" He asked, "haven't seen you in a while!" He walked the rest of the distance to Edward, patting him stoutly on the head. "Do you've finally grown a bit, haven't you?"

"Heh, he just loves to piss me off." Edward laughed sarcastically.

"So, uh, who's your big armored side-kick?" Mason asked, turning his attention to Al.

"It's me Mason, his little brother Alphonse." Al said sheepishly.

"Ah—" Mason was stunned, and at a loss for words. "That's one heck of a growth spurt," he laughed nervously. "And who's your little lady friend?" He then asked Ed.

"Oh, you mean me?" I asked, pointing meekly to myself. He didn't ask about Winry, so apparently he already knew who she was. I laughed bashfully, scratching the back of my head. "Just a friend of theirs. Clarissa Tailor."

Mason approached, holding out his hand, and I took it, exchanging a handshake. "Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise," was my charming response.

At the Curtis household, we were all seated at the dinner table, enjoying a rather satisfying meal. I didn't know I was so hungry, but before I knew it, my plate was clean. I didn't feel obliged to take seconds, lest Izumi take a swipe at me or something.

Hope was enjoying her own cut of meat; wolfing it down in a manner that was very odd to be seen in a young cat. Earlier, she'd told me she didn't need to eat, so she was either being courteous, or she was actually enjoying the meal. Go figure.

"Aren't you going to eat, Ed?" Winry asked.

"No thanks." He replied.

"Eat it now, Ed." Izumi ordered casually.

"Yes ma'am." Ed responded promptly, digging into the meal obediently. Poor Ed. Can we all say, 'whipped'?

"Same goes for you Al, it's really tasty!" Mason proclaimed.

"No, that's ok, I'm full." Al answered.

This time, Izumi didn't order Al to eat as she had Ed. Apparently, she knew Alphonse didn't have a body to feed. I couldn't be sure though. We'd see about that, wouldn't we?

After the plates were eaten — nearly — clean, and there had been a bit of reminiscing on the boys' parts, Mason said, "wow, sounds like you two have been on some brutal journeys since you left."

"You shouldn't be getting into so much trouble." Sig commented in a deep bass.

"Well, it hasn't been all bad," Alphonse protested, "we've helped out several people along the way, seriously. We even helped deliver a lady's baby a few years ago."

"Please, you call that helping? We were running around screaming our heads off thinking she was gonna die." Edward corrected, smirking.

"I guess so," Alphonse admitted with a laugh, "but the thing is we did our best. It was like that old proverb. When a mother gives birth, she risked her life, and when the baby's born, everyone around her is blessed."

"Yes, that's true," Izumi agreed, "I'm sure it was the same way when your mother gave birth to you. You boys should be thankful for the lives you have." She looked up with a placid look on her face.

"And what about you Izumi, do you have any kids of your own?" Winry asked.

How thoughtless, but how would she know? Izumi had lost a child, and it still pained her.

Mason slammed his hands down on the table, standing up. Everyone looked up in surprise. Seeming to remember himself he said, "Uh, I'm sorry, um," he was stuttering, patting his hands on the table as if trying to remember something. "I mean, Edward, you've improved your alchemy, haven't you? Can you show me?"

"Sure, if you want." Edward replied, a little perplexed. "Let's go." He said, turning to Al.

"Right." Alphonse answered, getting up with his brother. "Oh," he said, seeming to remember something, turning to me. "Why don't you show them your alchemy too, Clarissa, you're very good."

"Alright then." I reciprocated, obliged, lifting from my chair.

"So you're an alchemist too?" Izumi asked. I could see the same question in Mason's eyes too.

"Yeah."

"It makes sense now." She smiled, a little too slyly for my liking.

"I'll go too," Winry said.

And the five of us walked out the door; I felt something brush against my leg and saw Hope, apparently, she finished her meal, too. Outside, Alphonse was first to show off his alchemy. He traced a transmutation circle in the dirt and activated it. The end product was a toy horse made of sculpted, packed, and fused earth.

"Ok, my turn!" Edward announced.

But as he was rolling up his sleeves, a small group of children came running in through the gate. The ran past us to the door, where Izumi and Sig stood. One of the children's toy trains had broken while they were playing, and they asked her to fix it. When she began to fix it with a lollipop stick she took from one of the boys they protested, asking why could she just fix it with alchemy.

"No, you shouldn't rely on alchemy all the time. If you can fix something with your own hands, then you should." Izumi explained sternly. When she'd finished, she held out the repaired train. "There you go, all fixed."

"Yeah, but now it looks really ugly." The boy whined.

"There are far uglier sights, and if you want all your things to be so beautiful, I suggest you don't break them in the first place." Izumi told them, straightening up and placing a hand on her hips.

The boy laughed, obviously feeling a little ashamed and taken aback. The boys said goodbye to teacher, expressing their thanks, and leaving. "I'll be back if it breaks again!"

"Let's try to keep to once a day, please?" Izumi called to them, raising up a chorus of laughs from everyone.

"Teacher!" Manny cried in distress, running into the yard to us from down the street.

We turned to see what was the matter, but I already knew.

"What is it, Manny, what's wrong?" Izumi asked her urgently.

"It's Chico, my cat!" Manny divulged.

We ran to the scene to see a dog barking up at the injured Chico on the roof of Manny's house. Alphonse approached, effectively scaring the dog away, and it took off across the yard and over the fence, yelping in fear as it went.

"The cat must be up there!" Winy said.

"I'm on it," Edward reported, climbing up the drainpipe deftly.

Now _that's _something I'd like to learn. It'd be useful for things like... oh, I don't know, wily escapes, daring rescues... maybe a little B&E (don't tell anyone that last one, though).

Edward climbed up onto the roof; he saw the cat — injured, with her newborn litter clinging to her belly. One of the kittens fell back, rolling down the roof. I knew there was nothing I could do. Izumi would see Edward perform alchemy without a circle, and she'd know. Just as the kitten rolling off the edge of the roof, Ed clapped his hands, slapping them to the building. A curved hand formed from the wall, and the kitten gently slid to a stop in it. I saw the shocked expression on Izumi's face, and heard her gasp quietly. Oh great.

Edward was hanging from the drainpipe by one arm, his feet planted against the wall of the house, and he sighed in relief. He retrieved that kitten and the others with their mother and brought them all down.

Hope was sitting by my ankles, as she usually did, but I was the only one to noticed the almost pained expression she wore on her little cat face. Chico was lying in Izumi's lap, and Manny kneeled near her, pleading for Chico to wake up.

Izumi had to explain to her that Chico was dead, and not coming back. Manny protested that Izumi could fix anything and that she could fix Chico, too.

"Teacher? Is Chico broken somewhere?" Manny had asked.

"No, Manny, Chico's dead," she'd corrected her solemnly.

"But you can make her better, can't you, Teacher? You can fix anything, you can fix Chico, too." Manny had insisted.

"No, I can't. Lives and things are different, and I'm not a God. Chico's life has ended, and she isn't ever coming back."

"But... but she was just here!" Manny then protested, tears welling in her eyes.

Izumi's expression softened. "I can't bring Chico back for you, but you can make a grave for her, okay, how does that sound?"

We chose a grassy hill with a tree not too far away, and a wooden farm fence. A small hole was dug for the cat, and it was lined with stones; flowers rested on the freshly turned earth. The kittens were in a basket next to the kneeling, grieving Manny, who was being comforted by Winry.

Winry reminded Manny how the kittens would needed to be taken care of, and this cheered her slightly, and she turned her attention to the tiny, furry creatures, rubbing one gently on the top of the head.

"Everything that lives has to die, that's the nature of the world. And when the body returns to the soil, flowers will be nourished and grow. The soul impacts on other souls and lives on in other hearts. Everything in this world flows, and circulates, that goes for human lives as well." Izumi spoke.

"Why don't you all head back, I have to talk with my pupils for a minute." Izumi instructed.

Sig nodded, and began to lead us back into town, separating the group between himself, Manny, Winry, and I, and Edward Alphonse and Izumi. As I left, I walked past Edward. Briefly, I touched his arm, and gave him a meaningful glance that said, 'be careful.'

He gave me a perplexed look, but I'd already been swept away by the group heading back to the Curtis's residence. Manny was sent home with the kittens and our sincere regards. The others went inside, but I insisted on waiting at the doorstep for them to come back, and I wouldn't be swayed. It was twilight by the time they returned, and I stood up from my seat on the front step.

Izumi lead the small group, the boys flanking her sides and walking a step behind her. They didn't look much worse for wear, but as they got close, I could see a few welts rising faintly and scrapes on armor here and there. I stepped to the side, out of the way, and Izumi drifted through the door with a subtle yet piercing glance, briefly, to me; and then she disappeared through the doorway. Alphonse followed after her, but Edward lingered on the step near me.

"'Be careful', was that what that look said?" He asked me, a hint of curiosity was the only thing coloring his tone, if not slightly exhausted amusement.

"Yeah, but I see it didn't help much," I replied quietly, reaching up to touch one of the welts on his cheek tentatively. My fingertip just barely brushed his skin when I dropped my hand.

There was more red coloring his cheeks now, but he was smiling; and my face felt a little warm, but I returned the gesture.

"Let's get inside," he said mildly, and he let me go first into the house.

That night, I was as tired as hell, considering I hadn't gotten much sleep in the past week or so. In fact, whenever I had slept, it had never been more than a nap, or when I had bled out to the point of unconsciousness. It was only that night, that first night in so long when I actually had a chance to get a good, full night's sleep, that I realized I had nothing to wear for when I went to sleep. It amazed me that the fact had escaped me until then, considering how long ago I'd gone without them. So I was able to procure an old, long T-shirt that was more like a dress from Izumi without getting hurt.

She'd just laughed, dug through her clothes dresser, pulled the tattered thing out and tossed to me. I decided to cut off the short sleeves on it, turning it into something that looked like a nightgown but was very apparent that it was formerly sleeved. Oh well, they just bugged me anyways. I bedded down in one of the guest rooms with Hope, feeling worn out. I was out like a light by the time my head hit the pillow, and I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. I thought I would sleep well until noon — I might very well have, or even past then (hell, I'd sleep for days if I could) — if it hadn't been for a clamor rising through the house at around seven in the morning. Three words: WAY TOO EARLY.

I rolled out of bed, my hair a tangled mess, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I plunked down the stairs and found myself in a large kitchen. And I wasn't alone.

"Hey, you slept in!" Edward called to me amiably through a mouthful of food.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Alphonse chastised him, ever the good little brother.

"Sorry," he said, gulping down his food. I saw he had a glass of orange juice by his plate, and not milk.

"Well, hello there." Izumi greeted me kindly, frying up strips of bacon... and sausage... and something I suspected was akin to bologna. There was also eggs, toast, and pancakes.

"Woah." I said, not finding anything else to say. I blinked in surprise, and in an effort to drove off the heavy hand of sleep.

I was perplexed for a minute, thinking sleep was coming back, when I felt a heavy weight on my shoulder. I realized it was a hand, and that it belonged to Sig, who, for his large size, was a very light walker. He guided me into a seat at the table where Edward, Alphonse, and Winry was eating. "Sit down and eat." He told me, not unkindly.

A plate heaping with all the aforementioned foods was placed in front of me. I stared down at it. I wouldn't be able to finish the whole thing.

"Come on, dig in!" Winry urged me happily.

She was digging into her own plate as wholeheartedly as any man worth his salt. Including Edward, who was practically a black hole. I picked up the fork and knife resting on the table beside my plate, and began to eat. It really was delicious, and I found I was more hungry than I thought. But what surprised and delighted me most was the warm, homey atmosphere. It was something I sorely missed at my own house with my mother, and even at the Cullens', despite the fact they never ate and were very superhuman, there was still that easy, familial and familiar quality to the air.

Seeing I had nothing to drink with my meal, Izumi came up to me. "Isn't there anything you'd like to drink?" She asked, a little less bluntly than normal, but her arms were still crossed over her chest. It was rather out of character her being quite this nice, but I decided it was better to not look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Oh, uh, sure. Do you have any milk?" I asked.

There was a choking noise from across the table.

'_Here we go...'_ I thought, sighing to myself.

"Milk?!" Edward repeated incredulously. "How can you drink that stuff, it's disgusting!"

"What are you talking about, milk's good for you!" Winry interjected with the familiar argument.

But rather than fight, I rose from my seat. Edward, Winry, and even Alphonse, looked up, curious about my actions. I walked over to Edward, leaning down until I was at eye level with him as he sat in his seat, looking a little suspicious. I narrowed my eyes slightly at him.

"Personally," I began, speaking in a very serious tone "I think milk is quite delicious. And besides, I think it's rather nice to help the growth of my bone structure. I already enjoy milk, growing taller's just a plus."

Edward stared, wide-eyed, wide-mouthed, and speechless, as I walked smugly back to my seat and sat down. He couldn't seem to think of a comeback, which is exactly what I hoped. Izumi returned, bearing a glass of the aforementioned liquid, and placed it like a trophy by my plate.

"Milk for you, then." She said, a hint of a smile on her face.

I thanked her graciously, took a sip, and continued with my meal.

When breakfast was over, people lingered in their seats, working on digesting their meal.

"I think it would be best if you boys took some time to cool your heads." Izumi announced suddenly.

Everyone looked up, their attention caught, perplexed.

Edward had been fiddling with his butter knife, upon hearing this, he put it down. "Teacher, what do you mean by that?"

"I'm going to send you on a little vacation." She answered cryptically, smiling like she had a slightly devious plan. "I'm sending you to Yock Island."

"Teacher, do you really think that's necessary?" Edward sighed, sounding jaded, and maybe a tad bit petulant.

"Yes." Izumi said in a dangerous tone. "You're going because I feel you need some time to stop and think things over."

"Yes, ma'am." Edward said, cringing.

"Perfect." I said, just as Winry was saying, "what?!" incredulously.

Izumi turned to us, observing our opposite reactions.

"That means you'll have some free time to teach me some combat," I said happily to Edward.

"Yeah, I guess so," he laughed, seeming amused by the turn of events.

"Why don't you just train here with me?" Izumi asked, bemused.

I looked away, bending my head cowardly. "Because you'll hurt me..." I practically whimpered.

"I won't hurt you," she protested, "more than necessary."

"You're sending him away to an uninhabited island?! For how long?" Winry demanded.

"Oh, only about a month. Not long." Izumi insisted, waving it off.

Winry was stunned into silence. I, on the other hand, was thrilled; I was planning on somehow making some time to try and improve — and at best, master — my fighting skills, which I felt had been lax as of late at that time.

"And I forbid you to use alchemy." Izumi added.

"Alright," the boys sighed, but only Edward seemed visibly irritated. Clearly, he thought it was a waste of time, but of course he wouldn't say it aloud with Izumi right there.

The table was cleared, and Winry walked off, probably to her room or something, I didn't ask her. She seemed pretty irate about them going to Yock Island; it really wasn't a big deal, she was making a mountain out of a mole hill, as the old saying goes. Sig left, saying he had to tend to the shop, and Edward, Alphonse, and I cleared off the table, taking the dishes to the sink.

Izumi was busy at the stove, so I obliged to deal with the dishes. I didn't need to roll up the sleeves on what I was wearing, so I promptly set about cleaning the dishes, grabbing a dish rag and a plate. Then, I reassessed the tower of plates, glasses, and cutlery and began to rethink that decision.

"Why don't you boys straighten up your room, I went past there and it was a mess." Izumi stated coolly. A statement like that could possibly taken as a suggestion in other situations not concerning Izumi, but it was meant as an order right then.

"But it's not—" Edward began, earning himself a look from Izumi, "yes, Teacher." He had a perplexed look, wondering why she sent them away. His eyes landed briefly on me before she reminded him to leave.

The boys left and I gave Izumi a suspicious, sidelong glance, and I shifted at my place in front of the sink. There was a minute of silence between Izumi and I in the otherwise deserted kitchen. I set about cleaning the dishes, regardless of how many; I was nervous.

"Combat training." Izumi stated simply after a while, though it sounded more like a question.

"Yeah, I mean, I'm pretty good alchemist — I think — but I want to get better at fighting, because I really think I'm lacking in that area and I want to be able to not just hold my own in a fight, and not have to use alchemy— and not only hold my own, but at least try for an advantage against an opponent—" I had to remind myself to say 'alchemy,' and 'alchemist' and not slip up. And by the time I'd gotten past 'I want to be better at fighting', I was pretty much rambling, and then Izumi interrupted me.

"Is that all?" She asked me, not looking up.

I dropped the glass I was washing in the water, nearly sloshing water on myself. I jumped back from the sink in a flurry, pointing at her accusingly, dishwater dripping from my hands.

"What is it with all you people and thinking I have ulterior motives or something?!" I demanded, practically foaming at the mouth in anger. I resisted the strong urge to pull my hair out by the roots.

"Calm down," she said bluntly. And then she added, almost mostly to herself, "'All you people'?"

I huffed, still mad. I shook some water off my hands and crossed my arms carefully over my chest so I wouldn't get myself wet. My side twinged a bit at the contact, still not fully healed, there must have been something that was preventing it from healing quickly...

"Is it that obvious?" I asked weakly, sighing.

"To me. Even if I was blind I think I could still tell there was something between you and Edward." Izumi replied, smiling almost slyly.

"You're observant." I commended her dryly, my mouth twisting grumpily. My second comment was a little more sarcastic. "Well, good job! Would you like a cookie?"

Izumi laughed at my sour attitude. "Defensive, it kind of reminds me of him."

"Please, Iz—Teacher, let me go to the island and train with them." I implored stubbornly.

"If you're going to insist on calling me Teacher, then train with me."

There was a short pause. "Alright then. Mrs. Curtis, let me go train with them."

"And you still don't want to train with me? I'm hurt." She said in a deadpan tone.

"To be honest, you scare the willies out of me!" I blurted out.

"That's one I've never heard before," Izumi commented, resting her chin on a curled hand. "'The willies,' huh? At least you're brave enough to admit it. Even Edward and Alphonse wouldn't ever admit it to my face." It seemed to amuse her. "Alright then, you can go with them."

'_Sheesh, this is like asking permission from your mother to go on a field trip — a very scary, intimidating mother.'_

"I'm sure you want to take a few things with you, but I'll only allow clothing, and you aren't permitted to use alchemy, same as them." Izumi told me, almost cheerily. She stared back at the dishes. "You didn't do many of these..."

"Sorry! I'll finish them!" I declared, about to jump back to the sink.

"No, I'll finish them, I'm faster anyway," the statement seemed almost taunting, "just go put some proper clothes on and get whatever things together that you want, but I'll be checking to see if you try to sneak food or supplies with you."

I looked down and remembered I was still in the old, super-long T-shirt I had recently converted into a nightgown. Sighing, I plodded upstairs to the room I was using. I entered the room, picked up my suitcase that was placed on a chair next to the window and I put on the bed, snapping it open, leaving the lid open.

All that I had to my name at the moment were the clothes on my back and in my suitcase. I sighed at the dismal situation. And all my possessions were already _in _my suitcase. Everything I owned. In one suitcase. Actually, less than one suitcase. The darn thing was barely full.

'_That's dismal.' _I sighed to myself.

It's not like I had a survival kit or anything, and even if I did, Izumi wouldn't permit me to have one.

'_But wait. Island means water, water means fishing, getting drinking water, bathing—swimming? What the hell, I'll bring a towel.' _

I walked out into the hallway, questing for a linen closet. Picking out the smaller doors that wouldn't normally lead to bedrooms, I chose one farther down and on the opposing side of the hall. I opened it.

'_Bathroom. No towels, either. Damn.' _

The next door down I tried was finally the linen closet. I procured a nice, fluffy white towel. I was sure she wouldn't mind me borrowing it. As I was walking back down to my room, Edward came out of a door farther down the hall between me and my room, exhaling loudly, and scratching the back of his head.

He looked up, and he saw me. "Oh, hey Clarissa."

"Hey yourself," I said, closing the distance between us to a few feet.

He eyed the towel in my hands. "What did Teacher want to talk to you about?" He asked, taking his eyes off the towel.

"Me going with you to Yock Island." It _was _basically the gist of the conversation Izumi and I had.

"So what's the verdict?" Ed asked, a slight smile on his face. He put his hands in his pockets and leaned back against the doorframe of the door that led his room.

"Save another seat on that rowboat for me, 'cause I'm coming with you." I replied, laughing. I paused, studying him. "Are you all right? I'm kind of sensing a little bit of uneasiness, tension, maybe."

Edward blinked, then looked sheepish. "Yeah, kinda," he said unwillingly.

"What is it?" I pressed.

His face started to turn red. "Uh, it's just that, it'll be pretty close quarters on the island, and me and Al are brothers, I'm just kinda worried... you know, the whole gender thing..." He tried to explain awkwardly, trailing off and starting again in some places.

I laughed, and Edward looked up, surprised. "Is that what you're worried about? You're acting like a little boy!"

Edward then became flustered and scowled, his face still red. I stifled my laughter by putting my hand over my mouth. I breathed in deeply, exhaling, to stop my laughter enough to speak. "I understand your concern, after all, I'll be the only girl there, but we should be able to put that aside, you don't have to be so prudish."

"I'm not being prudish," Edward protested, arms crossed, looking away petulantly. Oh, boy, did this sound familiar... And an Edward, too...

"Really, I think it's me that would usually be so worried. Don't worry about it," I assured him, then added with a sly look and a snicker, "after all, it's not I'm going to be walking around topless." I laughed uproariously at the shell-shocked look on his face.

"Brother, what's going on?" Alphonse asked, coming out of the room. He saw me and said, "Oh, hello Clarissa."

"Hi, Al." I replied, smiling sweetly. "I better get back to my room."

"Alright then." Al said, giving me a small wave.

Edward hadn't said anything since I'd made the topless comment. He was giving me a strange look that I couldn't interpret. I turned and went back to my room, perplexed and wondering.

I shut the door behind me, changing out of the long T-shirt-turned-nightgown, and taking a set of clothing from the suitcase and changing into it. I folded the 'nightgown' and placed it into the case. I spied my coat hanging in the open closet, I tossed the towel into the suitcase and walked over to retrieve my coat. It was warm outside now, but at night, I thought I might need it. I took it off the wire hanger, folded it, and laid it over everything in my suitcase. I closed my suitcase, snapping it shut. I hefted it, and it seemed to feel a bit heavy, even with the coat in it. I looked around the room and it seemed eerily empty.

"Come to think of it...Hope? Where are you? You here?" I called out for her.

I put the suitcase down, kneeled on the floor and checked under the bed for her. Not there.

"She must be wandering around the house or something..." I said out loud to myself.

I picked up the suitcase and walked out. Izumi was waiting for me near the entrance to the front door. Edward and Alphonse were with her, apparently ready to go.

"I hope you aren't going to try to sneak anything, it won't get past me." Izumi said confidently.

"Go ahead and check, it's only clothes." I sighed, putting down the suitcase.

Izumi opened it, removing different articles of clothing, briefly eyeing the towel I packed then me, then, we saw that there was a suspicious bulge under one layer of clothing. I was perplexed.

"I told you that you wouldn't get anything past me," Izumi said, a little smugly if I do say so myself, reaching for the bulge.

Suddenly, the bulge moved, and Izumi drew her hand back, immediately alert. The bulge moved again, and the clothes fell away.

"What the hell?!" I demanded, picking Hope up by the scruff of the neck. "Why were you hiding in my luggage?"

Hope gave me a surly look, and I returned it.

"The... cat?" Izumi said aloud. She looked up at me and raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, don't look at me, the furball concocted this all by herself." I said, sending Hope a brief look.

"I doubt a kitten could contrive an escape plan, or develop a compulsion to be a stowaway. I don't know what you're planning by bringing the cat, but it's staying here." Izumi said definitively.

"I'm telling you the truth! It's not me, it's the cat!" I insisted, holding her up a little higher as if that would prove my point. The brothers exchanged a look and Izumi wasn't swayed from her opinion. I sighed. I probably appeared to be suffering from some sort manic derangement, so I kept quiet.

Giving Hope one last, 'you better watch yourself' look, I put her down and she walked regally away. I huffed angrily.

Izumi replaced the disturbed items and snapped my case shut, handing it back to me. "There you go." She turned to the brothers. "And when you teach her how to fight, don't go easy on her."

"Hey!" I protested weakly.

Izumi's gaze silenced me, and when she walked out the door, I shuffled along meekly with the brothers. Sig had joined us from the attached meat shop they ran and he came with us, to row the boat I assumed.

By the time we reached the edge of the lake, I was entertaining a suspicion that Izumi might very well push me out of the boat and hold my head under. Sig rowed the boat, and Izumi sat at the front, leaving the three of us to sit in the middle between them, trapped. Winry didn't come on the boat — not that there was any room with me coming along — and last I had heard was she went to visit Manny and the kittens.

The small island grew infinitesimally larger as we neared it. I was having mixed-emotions about the arrival to Yock Island. What I began to remember then was the fact that at the end of the month on the island, we would come across the Homunculus Wrath. I'd rather not miss out on that, just in case.

When we made landfall, Edward and Alphonse jumped expertly and gracefully from the boat. Izumi practically tossed me out onto the sand. I stumbled, regaining my balanced with what dignity I could. Suddenly, Izumi seized my suitcase and heaved it at me; without time to react, I braced for impact with it, my arms out to catch it. On impact, I instinctively closed my eyes. The suitcase hit me square in the chest, nearly knocking the air out of me, and the force of it knocked me backward; I landed butt-first into the sandy beach. I groaned, lying back flat on the sand.

"We'll be back for you in a month!" Izumi called, sounding almost chipper, and I heard the rowboat slosh away through the water.

I heard the sand shift and crunch faintly around me; I opened my eyes and looked up to see Alphonse and Edward standing over me — of course who else would it be? Alphonse plucked my suitcase-turned-lethal-projectile easily off of me, and Edward offered me a hand. I took it, and he helped me up to my feet. I hadn't noticed, but I had subconsciously wrapped my arm around my right side. I let my arm fall. The impact from the case had sharply jarred my wound.

"Thanks." I said sheepishly.

"I've never seen Izumi do that, she's hardly known you for seven days and she's already throwing your luggage at you." Edward observed, surprised.

"Yeah, I'm just good like that; I make special connections to people _all_ over." I said dryly, brushing sand off of myself where I could. "Ok, isn't the first thing we should do is set up camp?" I asked, cutting straight to the chase.

"Yeah, we should, come to think of it." Edward laughed sheepishly. "You ever been camping before?"

"Once or twice," replied ambiguously, shrugging.

"Alright then," he said, clapping and rubbing his hands together as if in anticipation, "let's get to work!" He turned from me to Alphonse and they nodded.

We set to work, gathering branches and building a frame for a sizable lean-to wedged between two trees. Strangely, some of the plants seemed to be tropical; I'd heard of unique air currents in different regions around the world that could catch airborne seeds from distant places and deposit them hundreds— even thousands— of miles from where they came. Intriguing.

We tethered the supports of the lean-to together with vines, and rain-proofed it as best we could with flat, palm-like leaves. When the work was done, I exhaled, wiping pinpricks of sweat from my forehead. I stepped out of the forest underbrush onto the beach, taking a short break. I spied a small tree trunk that had fallen over; it didn't have any branches on it, and it was the perfect sitting log. I grabbed it with both hands at one end, dragging it out from the tree line. I scraped a depression into the sand in front of the log and gathered a few sizable branches that littered the ground nearby. I heaped them into a pile in the depression. Of course this wouldn't be any good for the days that rained, but it was more of a secondary setup. I shaded my eyes with a hand, as if in salute, looking out over the water.

I shrugged to myself, and began to unlace and remove my boots. With the lining, there was no need to wear socks; I left my boots there in the sand and walked toward the water, my feet sinking in slightly where the water and sand met. The sand seeped between my toes and the water washed over my feet, a calming sensation, as I began walking the edge of the water slowly and methodically.

"Huh? What are you doing all the way over there, without any shoes?" I heard Alphonse's voice a small distance behind me.

I turned to see that the brothers were out on the beach now, looking at me with perplexed expressions — well, _expression_, since armor can't make gestures and Edward could, but the perplexity was evident enough in Al's voice.

I smiled to them, taking another step. "Just—" and at that moment, my foot handed on something hard and uncomfortable.

I stopped in mid-sentence, moving my foot and retrieving the offending object that was lodged in the sand. I looked at it curiously, evidently it was a rock. But not just a rock — flint. Flint plus steel _plus _tinder equals quick and easy fire. Ding!

I smiled to myself as the brothers approached curiously. They came a stop, and there was a pause.

"What's that?" Al asked.

Edward still hadn't said anything, simply observing.

"It's flint." I said helpfully.

An amused smile twitched at the corner of Edward's mouth. Without warning, I ran back up the shore past them to the tree line. I pushed aside leaves and bushes, grabbing a fistful of dried-out grass and leaves. I rolled it into a loose ball, making a dent in the middle of it with my thumbs, like a nest for the sparks.

'_Now I just need steel..'_ I thought, and just then Edward— on my left— and Alphonse — on my right— both came to a stop on either side of me.

They saw me with the tinder in one hand, and the flint in the other, and knew I was missing a key element. I looked at Edward, he looked at me. I glanced down at his auto-mail arm, which was closest to me, and looked back up at him speculatively. I didn't want to consider using Al, out of kindness.

"Hell no! You're not using my auto-mail! Winry would kill me if there was so much as a dent on it!" Edward protested, holding his arm to his chest and away from me with his left.

"Oh, don't be such a baby!" I criticized, seizing his metal arm and attempting to pull it to me.

"I don't know why we don't just make fire how we usually do." Edward grumbled, though it sounded more like he was pouting.

"The dowel-and-block method-thing? That can take hours!" I exclaimed. "This is much more effective I'll have you know, but I just wish I had charred cloth instead of just dry grass, that makes it tougher, but oh well."

"You can just use my armor, I don't mind." Al piped up kindly.

"Oh, Al, that's so nice of you," I said, smiling, a twinge of sadness seeping into my expression.

Al held his arm out, and I held the 'spark nest' in my left hand near the wrist of his armor, just under and to the side of it, to catch the sparks. I placed an edge of the flintstone near the elbow of his armor, and in a sweeping motion down the length of the forearm, a small shower of sparks erupted. They landed in the tinder bundle, and I dropped the flintstone to cradle the spark-laden tinder ball. I blew gently into it, each time, the embers grew brighter and larger until the bundle burst into a small flame.

I tucked the flaming bundle into the firewood pile, and soon it, too, ignited. I regarded my work proudly; and I couldn't have done it without Alphonse; I congratulated him silently for his help.

"Couldn't you just have lit it yourself?" Edward asked, seeming a little affronted. He raised his hands, wriggling his fingers in the air as if mimicking an incantation.

I frowned at him. "I promised Izumi I wouldn't do 'alchemy.'" I said sourly, using air quotes to boot.

Edward hung his head with an irritated sigh. We transferred a burning stick from the beach fire to the one at the main camp. The brothers had set it up so the fire was under the cover of the lean-to in order to keep it out of the rain, but also funnel the smoke out from under it. There's a bit of 'camping 101' for you.

"I'm going to go catch some fish!" Alphonse announced, walking out into the surf.

"Good thinking, Al!" Edward praised his brother.

I sat down heavily on the log I pulled toward the beach fire. I was anticipating the worst that had yet to come. Edward brushed the palms of his hands off in preparation. I stared up at him apprehensively as he looked down at me speculatively.

"Well, should we start toughening you up or what?" He asked me, a smile — that seemed to take on a sinister quality to me — spread across his face.

"Sure," I said, not feeling so willing. I stood up and awaited my fate.

"What say we do... hm, how about forty push-ups to start?" He thought aloud, considering.

"What?!" I asked, incredulous. "At best I can do twenty!" _'And actual push ups, not wimpy girl push ups.'_

Edward looked surprised at first, apparently it was his first thought that forty straight push ups was normal out of a person who did not exercise on an intense level on a regular basis. He remembered that wasn't the case and gave an apologetic, yet amused, look.

"Ok, twenty push ups and a lap around the island." He snickered.

"An entire lap? Around the whole island?" I repeated weakly. I slumped, sighing.

"Oh come on, don't be such a baby, the island's not that big, and I'll run it with you." He gave me an encouraging grin then.

"Great. What did I talk myself into?" I asked the higher forces above me that were laughing at that moment.

Edward took a seat on the log I had previously abandoned. He rested his left ankle on his knee of his opposite leg; then rested an elbow on the supporting leg and placed his chin on the hand of the respective arm. His expression was calculating as he looked at me.

I set to work, resting the entire weight of my body on my toes and hands. I kept my back straight as I pushed myself off the sand, then lowered myself back down again.

"One," Edward said lightly, counting each push up off. "Two — you should center your hands just below your shoulders, that makes it easier to take the weight."

I did as he instructed and it took noticeably less effort to lift myself off the ground. I recalled how I could pull off amazing stunts like enabling myself to run faster than an Olympic runner using my ability. I was far from accomplishing that now, but I concentrated on upping my endurance a little to deal with the strain I was facing.

"Good," he appraised, "five, six seven..." He raised himself from where he sat and looped lazily around, examining my progress.

This continued until I reached twenty push ups, there was only a faint, dull ache in my muscles, it would have been worse if I hadn't done anything about it. I stood, brushing the sand from my hands.

"Not bad. Ready for a run?" Edward asked me.

"It's not like I have a choice, is it?" I asked rhetorically. "Besides, you're going to beat me, I'm not the best at racing. Hide and seek, now _that_ I can do."

"Who said anything about racing? Now quit stalling and run." He taunted, and began to run himself, setting off at a decent speed.

I ran to catch up and keep pace with him. I noticed he had an easy stride while he ran, he wasn't exerting himself in the least. I tried to breathe deeply and evenly to do so myself, drawing on what inner strength that still remained with me. If I still had the full strength that I once had, this would be as easy as breathing. I hated feeling this weak, and I'd stop at nothing to get it back, even I had to pry it back from the inky hands of those damned Gate creatures.

This resolution forced me to go faster, and I pulled slightly ahead of Edward. We followed the slight curve of the island, running along the middle of the beach between the trees and the crest of the water. He gave me a sidelong glace that had a hint of surprise in it. I returned his look with a triumphant smile, daring him. A determined expression claimed his face, and he poured on the speed, taking the lead again. I salvaged my force of will, urging myself faster and faster with the aid of my strength until we were neck-and-neck, gaining and falling occasionally, but staying more or less consistent.

Sweat began to bead on my face, then trace hot trails down my face and neck. My breathing was coming faster, more urgent now; determined to win this race. Edward wasn't unaffected, either. He sweated as profusely as I did, and eventually abandoned his jacket on the sand behind him, exposing the dark short-sleeved shirt he wore beneath it. His breathing was heavy enough that I could hear it through my own. Scenery flew past as we pushed each other to the limits.

I saw a crest of rocks rising out into the lake from the island, forming a sort of combination wall and small cliff. I recognized it as the rock formation I saw the brothers fish off of once when they were young on the island. It curled around a little bit, making a sort of shallow cove in the lake close to shore. The stretch of beach was very narrow there, just before the rock formation started, in fact the large, palm-like leaves from the trees hung over the narrow sand and over the water somewhat.

That was the point we strived for. The person who made to that point, and past that point, first would gain the upper hand and reach the camp first, which wasn't that far beyond it; just twenty paces or so. We eked out our last little reserves of strength, and physically, I was at the end of my rope. Edward began to pull ahead of me, and I tapped into my power, letting it flood into my screaming muscles and soothed them. I soared past him, glancing at his astonished expression with a hint of satisfaction. I plowed through the narrow pass, pushing the leaves out of my way without damaging them. Edward was behind me now, trying to gain the ground he lost.

He was close behind me from what I could sense, but that space between us remained constant. I admitted to myself, I was cheating a little bit, and I did feel bad, but winning felt better.

I breathed a deep sigh of satisfaction, laughing weakly and breathlessly as I sank to the sand near the beach fire. I panted heavily, my left elbow rested on the log. I let the power seep away from me, and a sharp slicing pain overtook it. Involuntarily, I flinched, steeling my aching muscles, drawing myself inward to my torso. I wrapped an arm around my side. While I was running, I must have damaged the wound, but my influenced must have covered it up.

'_Damn it! Why isn't it healing?!' _I demanded furiously of myself.

I bit my lip and commanded myself to ignore the pain and act unafflicted. I exhaled a seething breath through my teeth with the effort. Edward caught up by then, huffing. He stopped a few feet away, resting his hands on his knees. He recovered himself to an extent and looked up at me.

A piece of hair was stuck to his cheek with perspiration, and he was still breathing heavily. "Hey are you ok?" He asked faintly.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said, waving away at his concern.

Edward remained unconvinced. He gave me a serious look. "It's your side isn't it? It's still bugging you."

"A little," I admitted.

"Well, looks like you beat me," Edward said in a congratulatory tone, changing the subject.

"Uh, yeah, well I kind of... I guess I cheated a little." I admitted reluctantly.

Edward stared at me with his eyes narrowed. "I thought you weren't going to use 'Alchemy'."

"Um, yeah... sorry about that... I let my pride get in the way." I apologized.

There was a pause. Edward looked like he was about to say — or do — something, and I particularly didn't want to stick around, getting the feeling that whatever was about to happen would not be beneficial for me. I laughed nervously for a moment, then dashed up and ran to the water. I glanced back out of the corner of my eye and saw he was heading back along the route of our race to retrieve his jacket.

"Hey, Alphonse!" I greeted him, waving to him as I ran forward into the water to him. "Have you caught anything yet?"

"I'm not sure — wait a minute, I think I have." Al said, shifting around a bit. "Brother looks mad at you." He commented.

"Yeah, well, I guess I kinda cheated at the race a little bit." I confessed, scratching the back of my head in embarrassment.

Al sighed disapprovingly. "Well, I've got some dinner, we might as well get it cooked."

We headed back on shore, the water draining swiftly like waterfalls from the gaps in Al's armor. He opened up his chest plate, and several fish fell on the ground. Not a bad haul. There would have been one enough for each of us, if Al had his body back. Either we were splitting the fish or Edward would have another reason to be grouchy towards me. I picked up two of the fish, hooking a finger through a gill in each, the best way to hold them to prevent escape.

Edward was still in a little but of a sour mood, and as I approached, he gave me a little bit of a sour look. I ducked my gaze and skirted around him slightly, and snatched up some appropriate skewer-sticks and speared the fish on them, planting them deep into the sand so that they stayed upright and hung slightly over the fire to cook.

"I'll go look for plants you two can eat with the fish," Al announced, beginning to head off into the forest. I knew what he was doing.

"I'll tend to the fire," Edward said, a little put out.

"Why don't I come with you, Al?" I pleaded more than asked of him.

"No, it's fine, I don't need any help, and it seems you and Ed need to have a talk." Alphonse replied, not even lowering his voice at the last part, and it carried to Edward, who looked up at him, then me.

Alphonse disappeared through the foliage with a rustle. I was left stranded. I turned from staring at the place where Al last stood and looked at Edward, who looked at me, a hint of sulking in his eyes.

I tentatively, quietly, walked over and sat down on the sand in front of the fire, the surf directly behind me several meters. Edward sat on the end of the log to my upper left-hand side. There was a moment of silence, and I sighed.

"I'm sorry I cheated. I shouldn't have." I apologized. I brought my knees up to my chest — carefully, though, because it stung my side — and wrapped my arms around them to keep them there. The sand was becoming cooler as the sun set. It was just at the horizon, giving the surroundings a buttery-orange, tropical feel to them.

"No, that's not it," Edward protested lightly. "Ok, that's part of it, but mostly, I'm worried."

"Worried?" I repeated. "About what?"

"You. I get the feeling something's not right about that wound you have. It's been a while since the time you said you got it, and it still doesn't seem to have healed, it's hurting you bad." Edward explained.

"I'm touched," I said, honestly, but with a hint of doubt.

"I don't think you're alright." Edward persisted. "Remember how you healed the cut on my shoulder? I've been wondering why you couldn't do the same to yourself." Edward leaned forward slightly, examining me intensely with his golden eyes.

I looked away, and at that exact moment, the sand that held up one of the fish-kebabs shifted, and the entire thing, stick and all, fell into the fire.

"Ah, crap, there goes one of the fish," Edward said.

"I'll get it," I said without thinking, and reached into the fire.

"What? Are you crazy—?!" Edward began, but as I reached into the fire and grasped the fish, he stopped short, staring at me in amazement.

I had reached in, my face remained calm and untroubled. The flames licked around my hand and wrist, but didn't burn me. I'd seized the fish and pulled it out of the fire. I blew a few cinders that had stuck to it.

"There, good as... oh." I trailed off, seeing the alarmed and startled look on his face. "Um, yeah, about that... fireproof?"

He had an astonished look in his eyes that was beginning to adopt a suspicious glint to them. His suspicion already formed in his jaw line and the way he set his mouth.

"I'm a Homunculus, I'm telling you!" I insisted. "I get the feeling that's what you're thinking."

"If you insist," he said, a tinge of doubt in his voice — or was it curiosity? — his eyes scrutinized my hand with fascination.

Suddenly, without warning, he leaned forward and took my hand by the wrist gently. He removed the fish from my hand and set it beside him on the log bench. He uncurled my fingers, making my hand lay out flat. He turned it this way and that, examining my hands for any sort of damage. His eyes were squinted with the effort, a curious, scientific glint to them. He wiped away soot here and there, half-expecting — I had bet — to find a previously undiscovered burn mark, but he found nothing.

"Amazing," he murmured, "there's no way I can explain this."

"I guess I'm just an inexplicable girl." I shrugged. "You know, when did that, I wasn't sure at first if I could still do that."

"'Still'?" Edward repeated, looking up at me with an eyebrow raised. "Did something happen?"

"Well, yeah. You see, I used to be a lot stronger than this; _a lot. _Looking back, it's kinda scary."

"What were you capable of?" He asked, seeming nothing so much as the insistent scientist pursuing new knowledge.

"Well, _this, _for one," I held up the hand I'd stuck into the fire, "and I could... well, I could do more than just heal bodily wounds, like, er, cancerous lesions..." I paused to gauge his reaction, but he stayed calm and waited for me to continue. "I could, move things with my mind, make myself move faster than what's normally possible for regular people..."

"I've already seen an example of that." Edward laughed, a little dryly, interjecting the statement into a pause in my list.

"I could also make barriers," I added, "not physical ones, but mental barriers, like, like a brick wall around your thoughts."

"Why would you need that?" Edward asked, puzzled.

I gave a dry laugh. "Trust me, one person I knew could read minds, it gets to you after a while."

Edward blinked in mild surprise at this, but didn't comment.

"And..." I hesitated, "I could... kinda harness raw energy and use it as a weapon." I said that a little more quickly and subdued than I how I said the rest of my list.

"Raw energy?"

"Yeah, sort of like alchemic energy. But it came from nature, and sometimes, people. In fact, when I concentrate, and close my eyes, I can see spots of light — the life-force, I suppose — in plants, people, and animals. But it's kind of dimmer now. Imagine something like electricity and fire mixed together." I explained, motioning with my hands. I paused, thinking about something that had occurred to me. "In fact, it seems like that energy is very similar to alchemic energy." I went quiet, and became lost in thought.

"How did you come to loose this — or, most of this?" Edward asked.

I paused a moment, considering wether I should tell him or not. I took a deep breath. "Well, you see, Edward, I'm not exactly from around here."

"Clearly." He said with a short laugh.

"No, really, I mean I'm not from _around here._ Not from Amestris, not Drachma, or the East, not any of the bordering countries." I persisted. "I'm — I'm from the other side of the Gate." I bit my lip and wait for his reaction.

As soon as the word 'Gate' reach his ears, he took in a small, sharp breath, and his head snapped up, his eyes burning, bewildered, into mine. "The other side... of the _Gate_? How is that possible?"

"It's... the Gate is basically a portal to another world. I opened that portal from my side of it — from my world — and I made my way here." I explained apprehensively. "When I came through, those Gate creatures stole most of what 'ability' I had. Honestly, though I've accepted it, I can't help but miss it from time to time. I feel so helpless when what I have is not enough."

"Is that why this wound isn't healing?" Edward surmised.

"That's part of it, I think." I admitted reluctantly. "You know how I said that this power I have is like alchemical energy?"

Edward nodded, giving me his full attention — not that he wasn't before, but he focused even more intently then.

"Remember in Lab 5? I saved you — by absorbing the massive amounts of alchemical energy that were building up in you. It occurred to me that alchemical energy is very much like life-force energy, and with all that red elixir, it made me feel a little bit like I had before, but being that close to that stone material somehow made my mind's eye go on the fritz, and it gave me a massive headache to do that afterward, as if I were a balloon filled with too much water." I observed.

"Hm, that's strange. I wonder if—" Edward began, but his thought was cut off when Alphonse materialized from the dense vegetation. Edward looked up and I had to crane my head around to see Al.

"Looks like you two have sorted things out." Alphonse observed, his armored arms laden with the plants and fruits he had gathered for the meal.

"Yeah, we have." Edward said, adopting an easy smile for him, and I did the same. "Thanks, Al."

"Good, now eat," he urged kindly with a gesture of his hands.

Edward and I each took a fish — Edward opted for the fish that I had pulled from the fire and was set next to him. I plucked a fish from beside the fire that still stood. Edward shuffled along the log and leaned towards a drooping tree and plucked off two large, tropical-looking leaves then moved back to his former seat and handed out to me. We divvied out the vegetables and fruit liberally between us. I felt a pang of sympathy that Al couldn't join us. But I'd guessed by then he'd gotten used to it.

Unthinkingly, I had pressed a hand, almost in a restraining way, over my wound; realizing that it had begun to hurt. I hurriedly forced my hand to fall to my side, but not before Edward shot a searching glance at me. I picked the last edible bits off the fish and ate the rest of the mushrooms, berries, and all else that I had. I tossed the leaf lightly into the fire, and watched intently, almost hypnotically, as the leaf blackened, turned to embers, and smoldered; it didn't quite catch on fire though. I didn't feel so hungry, I was too busy thinking, so I let Edward have the last fish.

"I'll be right back," I said quietly, getting up to get my suitcase that was in the corner of the lean-to.

"Huh? Where are you going?" Edward asked, perplexed.

"I'm not sleeping in _these _clothes," I pointed out, indicating what I currently had on.

"Oh," Edward said, the implications dawned on him he had faint splotches of red on his cheeks. I sensed that Alphonse might have felt a little awkward too, though he didn't say anything. Though, I'm sure if he had his body back, he would be blushing as well.

"Just try not to walk in on me while I'm dressing," I teased mildly, and left before I could see their reactions.

I continued on through the thin wall of trees and brush to our little camp. I snapped open my case, found my nightgown. I snuck a quick look around just in case, then began to remove my clothes. A pang lanced through my side and I flinched. The wound hadn't healed, of course; the entire process was painfully slow, at best, and the wound didn't seem to be healing at all. I'll remember to stay away from Homunculi for next time. The contact through the wound with Envy seemed to have somehow hindered my ability to heal. I checked the bandages, deciding that I would wash them, and myself, tomorrow. Right then, I was just too tired.

I sauntered back out to the beach fire where Edward and Alphonse were still sitting. I leaned against a tree trunk, taking on a slightly sultry pose, but nothing too out there. "So, what do you think?"

Alphonse stared, shell shocked. "Uhm, I'm—I'm going for a walk. I'll be back soon. Why don't you two talk for a while?" He declared jumping up from where he sat on the ground. I stared after him, blinking as he walked swiftly along the edge of the trees out of sight.

"Huh. What freaked him out?" I asked, though I knew the answer very well, and secretly I was snickering to myself.

Edward stared slack-jawed at me, looking as if he were about to pass out. Seeing nothing better to do, I walked forward and sat down unceremoniously on the log next to Ed; his gaze followed me there, but his mouth no longer hung open. I returned his gaze steadily for a minute— literally a minute, if not more.

"You ok?" I finally asked him, feinting concern; I knew he was pretty much alright.

"Uh, yeah," he said, the statement left him with an exhale, a weak smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, good." I said faintly, staring absently at the fire.

"You were saying earlier that you came here... from somewhere else. What about your family?" Edward asked me suddenly.

Well, it was just me an my mother back home, my father ran out when I was really little." I admitted, my mouth twisted into a frown. _'Because of me; he didn't love me... he.. he was afraid of me...'_

"I know the feeling." Edward replied, laughing a bit, bitterly.

"I don't think you should hate your father too much." I said matter-of-factly. "I get the feeling he left for a reason."

"That damned old man? He didn't care about any of us." Edward snapped unhappily, remembering old wounds. I was suddenly glad Al decided to go for a walk.

I sighed unhappily. "What if... what if he left to protect you, from something?"

Edward seemed to ground down on that thought. He didn't seem to want to consider the idea. "I doubt that." He sighed, looking up at the darkened sky. How far do you think Al's gone by now?" He asked with a smile, moving onto a more pleasant topic.

_You're so bitter, and so sweet_

_I could drink a case of you,_

_And I would still be on my feet..._

"Oh, probably about halfway around the island by now.." I guessed, smirking with amusement. Unwillingly, a yawn escaped me, betraying how tired I was. My side wasn't feeling too reliable either.

"Looks like sleeping would do us some good." Edward observed wryly.

"But what about Al?" I wondered aloud to him, stifling another yawn.

Don't worry, he'll be back soon," Edward assured me, taking a yawn of his own, stretching his arms over his head as he did so. "Here," he said, beginning to draw a line in the sand. The line became an arrow pointing in the direction of the inner part of our little camp.

Then he brushed heaps of sand over the fire, extinguishing it to glowing coals, and the smaller fire of the inner camp — which needed very little tending — now gave off a telltale glow through the thin barrier of trees and leaves. By the dim light of the coals aided by the light from the moon, the arrow was clearly visible.

My eyes were drooping dangerously, and I heaved myself — somewhat unsteadily — from my seat on the log, and Edward followed my example, and I picked my way wearily through the brush to our lean-to. Once there, I curled up into the left-hand corner on a mat of wide palm-like leaves that were spread across the ground there.

I was lying on my left side, my back to the inner corner of the lean-to. Edward flopped down on his back, arms folded behind his head, apparently as exhausted as I was. I sighed, shifting around slightly, trying to get comfortable. Sooner than I though possible, I heard snoring. I looked up to see Edward, already out like a light.

He had turned to the side, facing me; his right arm acted as a pillow under his head, despite being made of auto-mail, the other rested on the leaves in front of him. His snoring wasn't loud, just a light, comforting sound; adorable, really. I smiled faintly, then frowned as a strand of hair fell across his cheek, almost to the corner of his mouth. I reached out, lightly brushing my fingers down his cheek, sweeping the strand of hair away from his face. I pulled my hand back a little hastily as he stirred, but he was still asleep, and I breathed a sigh; a small smile seemed to tug at the corner of his mouth as he slept.

Suddenly, I heard the clank of armor, and plants rustling and I instantly faked sleep. "Oh," came Al's voice, stifled in an effort to keep it quiet so as not to wake Edward or me. "So, they're already asleep." There was a bit of clanking as Alphonse apparently— to my ears, since I didn't dare open my eyes— was making himself comfortable to my far left, or what would have been my far left if I was lying on my back.

"Goodnight, brother," I heard him murmur, "and Clarissa."

Then, all of a sudden, I couldn't keep it up for any longer and I had fallen asleep.

* * *

**Holy crap! Wow, that _is_ a long chapter... Just try EDITING all that... 31 freakin' pages on WordPerfect. Holy Buttered Muffins... **


	10. Into The Night

What I Bargained For

Part Ten: Into The Night

_Like a gift from the heavens it was easy to tell,  
It was love from above that could save me from hell, _

_She had fire in her soul it was easy to see,  
How the devil himself could be pulled out of me, _

_There were drums in the air as she started to dance,  
Every soul in the room keeping time with their hands,  
And we sang_

_Ay oh ay oh ay oh ay,  
And the voices rang like the angels sing,  
We're singing  
Ay oh ay oh ay oh ay,  
And we danced on into the night,  
Ay oh ay oh,  
Ay oh ay oh,  
And we danced on into the night,_

_Like a piece to the puzzle that falls into place,  
You could tell how we felt from the look on our faces,  
We were spinning in circles with the moon in our eyes,  
The room left them moving between you and I,  
We forgot where we were and we lost track of time,  
And we sang to the wind as we danced through the night,  
And we sang_

_Ay oh ay oh ay oh ay,  
And the voices rang like the angels sing,  
We're singing  
Ay oh ay oh ay oh ay,  
And we danced on into the night,  
Ay oh ay oh,  
Ay oh ay oh,  
And we danced on into the night,  
Ay oh ay oh,  
Ay oh ay oh,  
And we danced on into the night,_

_Like a gift from the heavens it was easy to tell,  
It was love from above, that could save me from hell_,

_She had fire in her soul it was easy to see,  
How the devil himself could be pulled out of me, _

_There were drums in the air as she started to dance,_

_Every soul in the room keeping time with their hands,  
And we sang_

_Ay oh ay oh ay oh ay,_

_And the voices rang like the angels sing,  
We're singing  
Ay oh ay oh ay oh ay,  
And we danced on into the night,  
Ay oh ay oh,  
Ay oh ay oh,  
And we danced on into the night,  
_

_And the voices rang like the angels sing,  
Ay oh ay oh,  
Ay oh ay oh,  
And we danced on into the night,  
Ay oh ay oh ay oh ay,  
Ay oh ay oh,  
Ay oh ay oh ay oh ay,  
Ay oh ay oh,  
_

_Singing ay oh ay oh ay oh ay,  
Ay oh ay oh..._

I awoke sharply, crying out with a muffled whimper. I held onto my side firmly for dear life; pain lanced through my stomach and up my spine. My back arched of its own accord at the sudden stab of pain, and then I curled in on myself. I opened my eyes, which had been squeezed shut tightly, and saw that Edward was still sleeping, and apparently he'd shifted a fair bit and was now sprawled over the far end of the lean-to. I looked up and around and saw that Alphonse wasn't there. The fire still burned.

I managed to crawl on one forearm and my knees out from under the roof of the lean to. A sudden, startling rustling sound seemed to explode in my ears in the silence; it came from my right, deeper into the forest. A few paces away, I saw a few leaves end their trembling, as if someone has passed by them hastily. It didn't make any sense, I began to think through the pained fog clogging my already groggy-from-sleep head. If it was Alphonse, he wouldn't take off like that. I began to remember that it wasn't just us three on the island.

The forearm I held to my injured side began to feel warm and damp. I looked down at my side, and saw that there was blood blooming through my bandages and nightshirt. I winced; the wound had reopened, badly. I dug around for the towel I brought, and, clutching it to my chest, I headed out with grievous progress to the small cove at the shore that Edward and I had raced by. Once there, I did a quick 180 behind me to make sure I was really alone.

I needed to clean the wound, the bandages, and most importantly myself, I was in desperate need for a wash. It's not nice to be fermenting in your own sweat for too long. Nasty. I took the nightshirt off, hanging it and the towel each on their own separate branches of the plants that hung close over the narrow shore. I was given ample cover by the curving rock formation that jutted out. I looked down at the long cotton bandages wound around my torso, bright scarlet even in the pre-dawn darkness.

I untied the knot, and unraveled the bandages to reveal an ugly, angry, torn, and bloody wound that was barely half healed. It had puckered in on itself, trying to seal up and heal, forming into a red, raggedly-shaped star. Without the bandages to stem the flow, a rivulet of blood welled from the wound, tracing a path like a thin, red ribbon down my side, curling around my hip. I waded farther into the water and the blood mingled, diffused in the water, leaving a cloudy, muted crimson haze. I flinched as the water lapped at the wound, making it sting slightly. I bunched the bloody dressings in my hands and scrubbed them together, cleaning them as best I could. When they were washed to my satisfaction, I laid them across some of the lower rocks to dry.

Now for me; I took a deep breath— receiving a jab of pain I forced myself to ignore— I dunked myself, head and all, under the water. I could feel my long hair swirling and floating around my face and shoulders. Under the water, scrubbed some of the grime out of my hair, trying more-or-less to fruitlessly comb it with my fingers. When I gave up on that, I surfaced, flinging my hair back out of my face. I scooped up a handful of water, and poured it over my wound, while tentatively scrubbing the blood away from around it. When it was half-decently clean, I turned my attention to the rest of my befouled self. Finally, when I was inexorably sick and tired of being in the water, and being cold, I turned to get my bandages off the rocks, then head back to shore for my towel and clothing. But just when I seized my bandages, a brutal, massive gust of wind tore though, throwing my wet hair around, setting the bandages in my hand into a loud, snapping, protesting frenzy. With the wind beating down on me, I was _freezing_! Holding onto myself as if I might blow away too, I shivered violently. I cracked open an eye during the wind's tirade in my ears and I saw to my horror that it swept away my nightshirt off the ground _and _my towel off of the branch I'd draped it over. And carried it around uncomfortably close to the portion of shore near the camp.

"Oh crap," I swore aloud under my breath, my stomach bottoming out. I dropped the F-bomb a few times as well, but you don't need to hear that.

Hastily, I rushed out of the shallow water in pursuit of my flyaway possessions, _very _conscious of the fact that I was in nothing but that pesky old birthday suit. Running out onto the beach, trying to be as sneaky as possible in the dim pre-dawn murk, I was glancing around a lot. I saw my towel flying around up above my head, carried by the wind. Suddenly, the wind died off, and the towel began to flutter down. I reached, snatching it from the air. I winced, grimacing as a jolt of pain speared my stomach. My arms shot down to wrap themselves around my middle, holding the towel in my hands to my waist. Looking up ahead on the sand I saw my nightshirt, already deposited on the sand several paces ahead of me. I started forward, my hand reaching slightly when the vegetation directly to the left of it shifted, then parted, to reveal— to my horror— Edward.

He didn't notice me at first. What he did see was my discarded nightgown, practically at his feet. Seeming puzzled by the discovery, he looked up and jumped, startled, and let out a shout of surprise and embarrassment. I let out a cry, and hurriedly brought the towel up to my chest; I could feel my face getting hot. An expression of wide-eyed shock overtook his face. He stood stock-still as if welded in place. We stared each other in the eyes for a moment. I was about to say something until I heard a crescendoing clanking noise, and my stomach bottomed out into my ankles. I half-turned when Alphonse burst out of the brush.

"Sorry I was gone, I heard someone—" he was beginning to explain to reason of his absence, when his eyes found and registered the scene an he let out a exclamation of shock and chagrin, covering his eyes in a boyish gesture, and I cried again out in response, trying to cover myself up more with the towel.

When Al had appeared his gaze shifted wildly from him to me until apparently he couldn't take it anymore. And that's when Edward crumpled into a heap like a dropped sack of potatoes on the sand. The rounds of shouts continued for a moment longer like a bad sitcom and then we decided to actually do something and help him.

"Edward!" I cried out, as Alphonse said, "Brother!" and we both rushed to his side, forgetting the situation. We rearranged him, straightening him out on his back. I checked him for any head injuries—he fell pretty hard. As we waited anxiously, he began to come-to after a minute or two.

"Oh, Al, I had the weirdest dream, Clarissa was—" Edward began, mumbling drowsily. He sat up halfway, resting on an elbow. Then his eyes snapped open, looking directly at me with a blank— if not shocked— expression, and he instantly went quiet.

There was a mute pause for a moment, then he said, laughing weakly, "I thought you said you wouldn't be walking around naked," he seemed as embarrassed and mortified as I did, but there was something in his eyes, a look I couldn't quite understand.

"Sorry," I said offhandedly, "these things happen. I-I'll get dressed now." And with that, I hurried off, snatching up my nightgown as I went.

When I was hidden in the cover of the forest, at the camp I fished around in my suitcase for something to wear. Soon I'd have to wash all of the clothes I had— which wasn't much— hey, what did I have, barely two sets of clothing? With the towel still tucked around me, I looked down and realized blood was seeping through the towel. I had to wrap my wound again to try and stop the bleeding. I was changing back into my clothes, just pulling down the hem of my shirt, when there was a sound nearby.

The bushes rustled, and with a jump, I heard Edward call to me, "is it alright if I, er, come in? I wanna apologize."

"Sure, and I'm not that naked this time, if that's what you're worried about," I replied, somewhat dryly. My pants were still low around my hips; unbuttoned and unbelted, and I hurried to fix that.

I heard a nervous laugh, and then I saw Edward hesitantly emerge, his hands warily at the level of his eyes, as if ready to cover them— just in case. I stifled a snicker. "And what should you be apologizing about? And where's Al?" I held the towel to my side with all the casualness I could muster, to stem the flow of the blood before I bandaged it, the hem of my shirt was rucked up along my waist so the towel was directly at the wound.

"Oh, Al's out on the beach, he opted to wander around the beach a little. He still kinda... traumatized by the situation." Edward explained, laughing haphazardly. "And I wanted to say sorry for the whole..." he made ambiguous gestures with his hands.

"Nothing to say sorry about," I shrugged, flinching involuntarily as a pang shot through my wound. He noticed that, and saw the blood, and his face turned concerned and grim.

"It looks bad," he said reprovingly.

"It's not that bad," I protested. "You shouldn't worry."

"I _do_ worry." His tone was insistent and sincere, "it's been bothering you a lot — I see it — and it... I hate to see you like that."

Surprised, I looked away, staring at the ground under my feet.

"Here, let me take a look at it," he offered, holding out a hand as if to beckon me.

I gave him a wry smile. "Is that a pass?" I asked jokingly.

He returned the smile. "Just let me see if I can help."

We sat at the lean-to, and I discarded the towel on the ground beside me. I held up the hem of my shirt, hesitantly, I glanced at Edward's face, but I saw only determined concern. Blood welled in the wound, but was no longer flowing, courtesy of the magic of coagulation. He drew in a sharp breath through his teeth.

"Why didn't you tell me it was this bad?" He asked me reprovingly, his eyes still on the wound.

"I didn't want to... worry you, or be a burden." I explained quietly.

"Don't say stupid things like that, you're not a burden." He looked up at me and gave me a grim smile, "you've helped _me _out more than once, about time I return the favor."

"But.. I'm not sure that it'll do any good. Something's stopping it from healing." I explained bleakly.

Ed's eyebrows knitted together. "What do you think it is?"

I suddenly remembered that Edward shouldn't know about my fight with Envy. Admitting to Edward, and telling him about the fight, which would lead to question _why _I had fought him, and... then he'd know that... _he _died. "I... don't know, I couldn't say for sure. Some kind of infection, maybe?" I said, concealing the truth, again. I just hoped that when he found out, he'd forgive me.

"That's possible.." he allowed, "but I'll try something, even if it might not work. There are a few plants here that are good for healing wounds and things like that. I'll be right back."

He rose, and I realized he was going out into the forest. I suddenly had a spike of irrational fear for him, as I remembered that Wrath was somewhere out there. Of course, right then he wasn't the monster he would eventually become, but...

I seized Edward's sleeve as he was about the walk away, and he stopped, appearing slightly surprised. "J-just be careful, ok?" I asked weakly, giving him a feeble smile.

His smile in response was dazzling and confident. "Don't worry about me, I know this island like the back of my hand." And with that, he made his way deeper into the forest until he disappeared from my view.

I waited for several tense minutes until I heard the bushes rustling and I stiffened and froze with unwarranted apprehension. The dense greenery parted, revealing Edward, to my immense relief. With him, he carried a small bunch of plants that were red-stemmed and had light pinky-purple undersides on the leaves and dark green on the upper sides. I just hoped it didn't sting too much.

He ground the plant—stem and all— into a paste on a flat stone. "Here," he instructed, mixing up the last of the plant paste, "get the bandages ready."

I seized the bandages at my side, holding them at the ready in my hands. Edward gathered a lump of the paste on the fingertips of his real hand. "Ok, I'm not gonna lie, this will sting a bit." Edward grimaced to me apologetically.

'_Oh great.'_ "Oh, don't worry, I've been through worse." I said nonchalantly.

"I see that," he said with a brief laugh, indicating my wound.

I sucked in a breath, and he touched the salve to my wound. I flinched; it _did _sting, badly. Edward spread the balm in an even layer over the wound, and then, surprisingly, the stinging sensation faded away and the wound became numbed and warmed, and was an almost pleasant feeling. I found myself smiling slightly with content as the warmth spread, but I recovered myself and regained my look of intent concentration. I couldn't help but be acutely aware of Edward, dangerously near, his hand still at my stomach applying the salve.

I could be so reckless right then...

"The plant should kick in soon, it's a strong painkiller," he explained.

'_Oh, it's kicked in, alright. If I didn't know any better, and I was back in my own world, who knows, I'd probably be wondering if it was 'Mary Jane' or something. This stuff's good... maybe I'll take some with me when we go...' _

"It should help the healing, also." Edward added. He reached for the bandages, then hesitated, saying, "unless you want to wrap it—"

But I had already pressed the wrappings to his outstretched hand in my haste. "No," I said hurriedly, then ammended, "it's hard enough as it is to wrap it on my own, I'd be glad for the help. Thanks."

"No problem," he said, taking the bandages gently from me. My hand touched his; it was the one he used to apply the salve, and his fingers were still slightly slippery from it. He pulled back his hand quickly, and we were both a little red.

Edward took the bandages in both hands, and he seemed to ready himself for a moment. I held up the hem of my shirt so that it was level all the way around. His face was still tinged with a bit of red, and if I didn't know any better, I would've said it looked like he was coming down with a fever. He measured out a length of the bandage, beginning from one of the ends, and laid it gingerly from one side of my waist over the wound to the other. Then he held down the end of the bandage to the far side of my waist with one hand. The other guided the bandage across my stomach, smoothing it out gently as it went, forcing me to suppress a shiver at the contact.

Then, he had to reach his arm around me to wrap the bandage all the way around. He bit his lip, wether in concentration or restraint, I couldn't tell, as he leaned forward. Edward was so close that his hair brushed against my cheek. I could feel my heart beating haltingly in my chest. I could just spread my arms out, put them around him...

'_No, bad Clary, bad.' _I chastised myself like a disobedient puppy.

Edward had already wrapped the bandage around my middle— and the wound— using up the length of the wrapping, and was beginning to tie off the ends. When he was finished, he sat back and inspected his work. "Is that tight enough? Or too tight—?"

"No, it's perfect, not too tight, not too loose, thanks." I gave him a tentative smile and he returned it. Then I remembered: "Hey, where's Al? I think we should go look for him." I suggested.

"Oh, yeah," Ed scratched the back of his head sheepishly, "I can't believe I forgot about him for a minute there."

"Ok; I'll check this way" — Ed pointed to the right — "and... could you check that way?" He asked, pointing in the other direction, toward the rock cove. "Then if we don't find him along the beach..." he let the sentence drift off. If we didn't find him along the beach, we'd investigate the forest. Edward stood up, and stretched a bit.

"Sounds like a plan to me." I conceded amiably. I stood up as well, brushing myself off here and there. That plant, whatever it was, was working. Meanwhile, in my head: _'Oh, Cannabis, our home and native plant...' _I needed to stop that. _'Focus! Must walk straight! Walk straight, dammit!' _

Actually, it wasn't THAT hard to function, it was just more fun to. I was feeling positively blissful as I walked down the beach to the cove. As I rounded the corner, I saw Alphonse sitting in the sand at the edge of the surf. He'd been gazing out over the water; as I glanced to look myself I could see the distant shore of the mainland. I mused briefly that I knew how to swim rather well. When Alphonse sensed someone was there, he turned his head and jumped slightly in surprise. Clearly he wasn't expecting company.

"Oh, hey Clary." Alphonse said kindly, sounding a tad surprised.

I took it as an invitation to sit. Planting myself on the beach next to him, I began to speak. "So what are you doing here all by your lonesome? Anything been bugging you?"

"No, I just felt that you and my brother might like some time alone, considering you —" Alphonse began, but I cut him off.

"Does everybody know about it?! What the bloody hell is this?" I started ranting, pulling at my hair comically, irate that it seemed that practically everybody knew and that I didn't know everybody knew (confused yet?).

"Well, no offence, but it's... kinda obvious." Al replied calmly.

I sighed, still feeling a little miffed. "You still seem a little preoccupied with something." I said, trying to change the subject.

"Yeah..." Alphonse began reluctantly. "It's about... Will I really get my body back?" He asked, sounding unsure and young, and then he raised his hand of armor, looking at it with a sense of something I couldn't place; I couldn't tell if it was sadness, or hate, or something else.

"Of course you will Al, I promised, didn't I?" I answered, my voice soft and earnest. "I might love Edward, but I adore you, and I'll make sure that you will get your body back, _no matter what_." I tried to put a comforting arm around him, but because of the size of his armor, my arm reached just over halfway across his back. I kept it there.

"Thanks, Clary," he said quietly.

'_It's the least I can do. I'll make sure, even if it kills me, that even if things don't go exactly like they should, I'll make sure that you get your body back. It's really my fault that things don't turn out just like they should, I have to try and fix them, as best I can. I made one hell of a mess, and it's not over by a long shot, all because of a selfish decision, but I'll make sure that I don't mess things up too badly. I swear on my life.' _

"Clary," Alphonse's voice broke through my internal pledge. "Are you ok? You looked like you just zoned out there."

I realized I had been staring blankly out over the water at nothing in particular. "Oh sorry, I was just thinking." I apologized with a smile. "Anyway, me and Ed were looking for you, mind coming back to camp? You're a beaming ray of sunshine in this place."

And with that we headed back to camp. The sun had finally crested over the land, and it spread the buttery glow of dawn over everything. The change was so sudden — or maybe I just didn't notice it — that I shaded my eyes against it for a moment until they adjusted. I looked around and I didn't see Edward, so I called out: "I've found Al!"

A few moments later, Edward came jogging around the bend. He smiled with fondness and relief at the sight of his brother. "Hey Al, what've you been up to?"

"Oh, just thinking," Alphonse replied, and thankfully he didn't say anything about giving us — how did he put it? — 'some time alone' for me and Edward. Yeeeaaaaah, that would've been awkward.

"If you say so," he said amiably, clearly in fairly good spirits. "Who's up for some breakfast?"

"I'm up for fish," I volunteered meekly. All the excitement that morning gave me the major munchies. And since there were no Ritz Crackers, I would go for fish. This time, to give Al a break (and because Edward wanted to show me how to spearfish, I just hoped I wouldn't injure someone) we made a pair of spears —which Edward also had to help me with, because I nearly took the end of my finger off— and then we waded out into the water.

"Ok, here comes one to your left," Edward instructed me. He stood to my right, a pace or two away, and Alphonse sat at the shore, giving encouragement here and there.

I nodded, keeping my eyes on the gray-scaled fish. It swam about two and a half feet from my left foot. With the spear poised, I was ready to strike. I had learned that with the way the surface of the water refracted images, you had to aim at the fish at a slightly different spot than what you saw. Rather tricky, and it was a concept I lost the first three fish to. I aimed about three inches to the side of the fish, and struck. I pulled the spear up from the water, with the fish skewered on the end, flapping this way and that. I held the spear up triumphantly and laughed.

"Finally!" I crowed, sighing with satisfaction. I was feeling quite proud of myself, as I'm sure we can all tell. Edward had already caught three of his own. I waded out of the water with him onto shore.

"You didn't do too bad for your first try, it took me hours to get a fish the very first time," Edward congratulated me.

"Aw, shucks," I mumbled, rubbing the back of my neck, pretending to be bashful. I had my hair tied back for once, it had grown really long, longer than I'd ever had it, but I didn't have the heart to cut it. My hair reached the small of my back, and was a pain in the ass to keep knot-free, I found myself constantly combing it through with my fingers, plucking out a twig or a leaf here and there.

For the fishing ordeal, both Edward and I had rolled up our pant legs to prevent them from getting wet, and we ditched our boots. While we had fished, I could see his auto-mail leg next to his flesh-and-blood leg, and the contrast was striking, I often found myself glancing at them. He wore his customary sleeveless shirt, and I wore my black sleeveless tank-top. Even so, the sun was rising, and getting increasingly hot, and sweat beaded and ran down my face and neck.

As we were walking up the beach, I glanced back at the water. It wouldn't hurt to go for a swim. I handed my spear to Edward, the end with the fish on it sticking up, and he took it in surprise. "Hold this for me, would you?" I asked good-naturedly with a wide smile.

I turned around and jogged back to the water. Edward called after me, "hey, where are you going?"

I glanced back to him to answer, and I saw that he'd turned to face the water and me. "Going swimming!" I called to him, laughing. He handed off the two spears to Alphonse who took them in surprise, looking from the spears that were suddenly in his hands to Edward, protesting weakly. Meanwhile, Edward dashed to the edge of the water after me, but stopped before it got past his ankles.

Once I reached knee-height in the water, I stretched my arms out over my head, closed my eyes, held my breath, and dove in. Plunging into the cool, quelling water was refreshing and shocking and the same time. My clothes felt heavy as the water saturated them. I swam briefly under the water before pushing off the sandy, uneven bottom and rushing upwards, breaking the surface with a splash. I breathed in deeply, brushing water from my eyes. I smiled at a startled-looking Edward who apparently thought I must have drowned from the look on his face.

"Come in, the water's fine!" I urged him. I could feel some of my wet hair plastered to the side of my face, and I brushed it away. I treaded water waiting for what Ed would say.

"I can't swim!" Edward called to me, sounding possibly a little envious.

"I'd sink," Al put in modestly, still holding the spears. Realizing this, he stuck the non-fish ends into the sand.

"Can't swim, huh?" I echoed, putting a pensive tone into my voice. "Well then, I'll have to teach you."

"Oh, come on!" Edward began to protest.

"Yeah, that's true," I said thoughtfully, "you're so short, you'd probably drown— "

"_Who are you calling so short a guppy could eat him?!_" Edward ranted, his facial expression turning vicious. I swear I saw him foaming at the mouth.

"Well, that's not exactly what I said, but..." was all I could say before Edward came charging into the water at me with a look of death in his eyes. I spluttered in fear and swam backwards into deeper water as fast as I could.

Edward had begun his rant again. "_I'm going to—_ " his threat was cut off when he reached a deep dip in the lake bed and his head was no longer above the water. He splashed and sputtered frantically, flailing his arms when he bobbed at the surface.

"Brother!" Alphonse called helplessly from shore.

"I'm drowning! I'm drowning!" Edward gurgled. "I'm gonna die!"

"Oh, for the love of Pete..." I muttered, paddling to where Edward was having his little seizure, grabbed him under the arms and towed him back to shore.

Edward panted and coughed, half-sitting, half-laying in the shallow water. I crouched at his right side and Alphonse knelt to his left. "And you wanted me to swim?!" He asked indignantly.

"I wanted to _teach _you to swim, not have you raving like a lunatic and drown yourself." I responded dryly.

Apparently at a loss for a retort, Edward sulked silently, frowning.

"Do what you want, I'm going to have some _fun _and go _swimming_." I said pointedly. "It's rather enjoyable when you know what you're doing."

Edward grumbled and crossed his arms as I waded into the water and ducked under. While I was swimming under the water, I heard a muffled call from above. Curious, I poked my head up to the surface, blinking away the water. I saw Edward again, standing, and looking a little disgruntled.

"Alright then," he said, no doubt swallowing his pride, "I'll..." he mumbled something after that, but I couldn't hear clearly because he'd turned his head and lowered his voice.

"What was that?" I called sweetly, cupping my hand to my ear.

"I said I'll learn how to swim!" Edward retorted, looking embarrassed and irked.

"Are you sure? There might be some pretty big fish out here...And who knows, eels, hell—freshwater sharks are a possibility... " I waded back into the shallows, not wanting to test my taunt. I wasn't quite sure how deep the water was, but I guessed it was fairly deep, and honestly, who knew what was kicking around down there? I was probably just making myself paranoid, but I couldn't help it.

Edward looked unsure then, and he glanced out at the water. "Forget it," he said, trying to sound nonchalant, "maybe some other time." He headed back up the beach, pulling the fish spears out of the sand as he went.

I snickered to myself and walked out onto shore, soaked. Yes, I was very glad I brought a towel. I dried off as best I could, but I was still damp no matter what. We cooked the fish, finally, and ate a nice, filling breakfast; even if it was a little dry. Afterwards, the three of us ventured into the woods for a little bit of Wilderness Survival 101. I was homesick for bug-spray within a half-hour. But I began to enjoy myself in the thick, humid jungle of the island. I breathed in deeply, inhaling the smell of decaying vegetation, the crispness of the young plants and fragrant flowers. Before I got too lost in adjectives, the brothers pointed out different things to me; plants that could heal some of the worst illnesses, plants that could make you deathly sick for days on end. I shuddered to myself at how they came to discover all this on their own. I took special note of the one plant Edward pointed out in particular: the one he used to dress my wound. I'd be going back for some of it later, mark my words. Edward showed me how to spot animal tracks and the like, and both him and Alphonse showed me the finer points of making a rabbit snare. Personally, I'd prefer to stick to fish.

By the time they had covered all the topics they wanted to, and the time our wonderful little trek was drawing to a close, I could gauge by the sun that it was several hours past noon. Time sure flies when you're learning vital survival tactics. It's true, take my word for it. As we were walking, trying to make our way out of the woods and back to camp, I saw something. A flash of black, out of the corner of my eye. It was Wrath, I knew, but I wasn't sure if either of the brothers had seen. I looked up, giving the brother's a stealthy glance. Something flashed in Ed's eyes, and he looked over to where I had seen Wrath. Curiosity and suspicion gleamed briefly in his eye before dismissing it and continuing on. Alphonse had noticed nothing, because he had been studying an exotic looking bird with two long, trailing feathers sprouting from its tail. I'd seen a type of bird like that in a copy on "National Geographic" a few years ago, but I couldn't recall the species. Useless information, really.

We had made and set snare when we first went forth into the forest, hoping to catch some lunch— or dinner, depending on when we got back. This was something I dreaded. And there it was; a little brown bunny caught in the snare. I preferred fish a lot more to this. The poor thing had got it caught around his neck, but at least he wasn't still alive. I heard a sad sigh, and I looked up to see Edward with an unreadable expression on his face.

"I always hated this..." He muttered, and it seemed as if he was speaking mostly to himself. He unsheathed a hunting knife that was strapped to his hip, and I was wondering why I hadn't noticed it earlier. He cut the rabbit from the snare, carrying it with him by the back legs.

When we finally broke through the dense foliage, the air had a yellow-orange glow to it already. The beach fire had died down a bit too much, so we worked to get it up to snuff before we set about... preparing the meal. Ed broke off a wide, palm tree-like leaf, putting the rabbit on it, and placing it next to the fire.

He took the hunting knife from its thick leather cover; then took it by the blade, offering the handle to me. "You can learn how to, if you want." Edward said, by way of an explanation. "If you don't want to, then I will, it's alright."

I quailed for a moment, then built up my courage and took the blade with determination. Gripping the handle tightly, I tried to swallow past the lump in my throat. Then, with Edward's guidance, I learned how to skin my first rabbit. It was a dismal and immensely disparaging event, but there wasn't much else to eat on the island. I could suppose I had no choice, and there was no place for squeamishness in the wild. The phrase 'Eat or Die' comes to mind.

By the time we were roasting the rabbit over the fire, the red-orange sun was grazing the horizon. I crouched near the fire, attending to the meal I had pretty much butchered. Edward and Alphonse sat together a few paces away, staring out over the water. They both sat cross-legged in the sand, quietly chatting. It was such a soothing picture to me that I found myself smiling from time to time, then quickly turning back to the rabbit before it burned. I didn't feel left out, in fact, I insisted that the two spend a little time together; I had felt lately then that I was driving a wedge between them, or at least forcing some sort of space between the two brothers.

When the rabbit was a nice goldeny-brown, I took the spit (the stick you put roasts on when you cook it over a fire, yeah, it was new to me too) out from the fire and put it down on a large leaf. "Dinner's ready!" I called out, with a little more volume and enthusiasm than necessary; it was rather fun.

Their quiet conversation stopped, and the boys both turned back to look at me. A grateful grin spread across Edward's face. They stood and walked over to the fire, Edward taking a seat on the log to my left, and Alphonse sitting opposite to him on the sand to my right. I sat between them directly in front of the fire. It was a normal process by now; the three of us would sit and talk around the fire, and two of us would eat, Edward and I. I divvied the rabbit between me and him and we began devouring the meal.

Apparently, at the time I momentarily interrupted their conversation, Edward and Alphonse were talking of old times back in Risembool. Edward took a hearty bite, and through said bite, tried to resume their current topic. "And remember when Mrs. Brown by the river had those—" His speech was muffled behind the lump of rabbit meat.

"Ed, come on, chew your food, swallow it, then talk, sheesh." I admonished him, taking my own bite of the meal.

He swallowed, then laughed. "Sorry," and with that, he launched back into his tale of Mrs. Brown who lived by the river. As it so happened, according to Edward's account, there was a big misadventure concerning her daughter who had fallen into the river, and apparently Edward and Alphonse had been there to aid with the rescue.

When the conversation had lulled, and the food had all been eaten, we lapsed into 'silent digesting mode'. After we weren't feeling so bloated, conversation magically started up again.

Sort of.

"I'm going to take a walk," Alphonse said, getting up. "I'll be back later."

As Alphonse walked away and out of sight, Edward hopped— yes, almost literally hopped— to his feet. "Alright, how 'bout a little sparring match?"

I grinned back, getting up. "Ok, you're on."

"Don't worry, I'll go easy on you." Edward mocked me lightly, taking a defensive position.

I took in a deep breath, focusing myself. My feet were spaced widely apart to give me better balance, my right foot placed farther back, my left a little farther forward. I rushed forward to him, and as I neared, he struck outward towards me, but I could tell the punch wasn't one he intended to land. I ducked to the side of his outstretched fist, grabbing the wrist of that arm with my left hand. Turning slightly sideways, I crouched, putting my hand to his stomach. By pulling his arm with help from his own momentum, and by lifting him with the hand I had on his stomach, I flipped him over me. He sailed by, his expression one of surprise, then transforming into one of determination.

Edward tilted into the flip, doing a full rotation to land on his feet, his back facing me. After he had turned around swiftly, I saw the expression on his face. He apparently was enjoying himself: there was an appreciative smile. I found that I was enjoying this too, strangely enough, my expression mimicked his. It was enjoyable, the moves and actions weaving into an intricate choreography.

_I remember one night where we were dancing_

_La la la la_

_La la la la_

_La la la la_

_La la la la la_

_I remember one night where we were dancing_

_La la la la_

_La la la la_

_La la la la_

_La la la la la_

_Boy, do you remember_

_How happy you have been in that night..._

_How happy I have been in that night..._

His eyes shined in the firelight, making them look like liquid gold. I straightened to my full height, resting a hand on my hip, a nonchalant pose. I held out the other, curling my fingers inward twice in a 'come and get me' gesture.

This time Edward charged, and I bent into a low crouch, preparing. I rested my weight back, on my left foot; I lifted my right rapidly, aiming for his chest. But suddenly — he wasn't there anymore. I realized to my surprise that he'd jumped _over me_. I turned in time to see him alight on the sand behind me. Edward dashed toward me again, in a move similar to his first. I tensed, waiting; as he neared, drawing back and releasing a loose fist aimed at my left side. It was so obvious, I thought he would've expected it. Just as before, I feinted to the side, and grabbed the wrist of his outstretched arm. I put my hand to his stomach, preparing to flip him, with a triumphant smile.

I realized Edward was smiling too: a devious grin. It was a trap. His momentum continued forward, tilting me backwards, and I felt something push against the backs of my ankles, sweeping my feet out from under me. My feet skidded forward in the shifting sand, and I began to fall backwards. Trying desperately to halt my descent, I seized Edward by the front of his shirt to anchor myself. It failed miserably; surprise shot through his face as he was hauled down with me.

My back connected with the sand, and my breath left my lungs in a _whoosh_. Edward was able to catch himself before he landed in a painful heap on top of me. My hands still gripped the front of his shirt, and Edward himself had landed on hands and knees. His hands sunk into the sand next to my shoulders; his knees positioned on either side of my hips. There was a furious crimson coloring his face in embarrassment, and my face felt warm, so I guessed I must have been blushing as well. His hair hung down around his face, close enough that one errant strand longer than the others brushed against my cheek, tickling my skin.

'_Oh wow... this was convenient...' _

For a moment, our gazes locked. Then, slowly, Edward's face came nearer, and with my hands still at the front of his shirt, I tugged slightly, encouraging him. Then, our lips were just barely an inch apart.

'_Maybe a little _too _convenient...' _

Just as his lips brushed against mine, I heard a familiar clanking sound.

'_Aha, there we go. Knew that was coming.' _

We both froze, then scrambled to stand, Edward rushed to his feet, slipping momentarily, then regained his balance. I got to my knees, and he helped me to my feet by a proffered hand. We hurriedly brushed sand off ourselves. Just as Alphonse came into view, we'd taken up some typical fighting postures, as if preparing to fight again.

We turned, pretending to just notice Al's arrival. "Oh, hey Al." Edward greeted his brother, trying for a casual tone; it was just barely passable.

My shot at nonchalance wasn't much better. "Hey there, how was your walk?" I asked quickly. My voice was slightly high-pitched with nervousness, and Edward was still trying to control the pace of his breathing.

"It was nice," Al replied mildly. "Who won?"

"Huh?" Edward and I asked in unison, then, "oh!"

We mumbled disjointedly.

"Tie." Edward volunteered.

"A tie? Oh, right, uh-huh." I scrambled to backtrack.

"Yep, a tie." We said in agreement, unconvincingly.

"Well, um, ok. That's good then, keep practicing." Alphonse encouraged, turning from us.

Edward and I shared a glance. Then Al made his way past the curtain of trees to the lean-to, disappearing between the leaves. With Alphonse gone, we both sighed. We followed after him, and prepared for a night of fitful sleep.

* * *

**Hey, there it is, part ten. Took a while... You know what to do! Click that beautiful blue button and tell me what you think. **


	11. Let The Flames Begin

What I Bargained For

Part Eleven: Let The Flames Begin

_What a shame we all became such fragile, broken things  
A memory remains just a tiny spark  
I give it all my oxygen,  
To let the flames begin  
To let the flames begin_

_Oh, glory_  
_Oh, glory_  
_This is how we'll dance when,_  
_When they try to take us down_  
_This is what will be oh glory_

_Somewhere weakness is our strength,_  
_And I'll die searching for it_  
_I can't let myself regret such selfishness_  
_My pain and all the trouble caused,_  
_No matter how long_

_I believe that there's hope_  
_Buried beneath it all and_  
_Hiding beneath it all, and_  
_Growing beneath it all, and..._

_This is how we'll dance when,_  
_When they try to take us down_  
_This is how we'll sing it_  
_This is how we'll stand when,_  
_When they burn our houses down_  
_This is what will be oh glory_

_Reaching as I sink down into light_  
_Reaching as I sink down into light_

_This is how we dance when,_  
_When they try to take us down_  
_This is how we'll sing it_  
_This is how we'll stand when,_  
_When they burn our houses down_  
_This is what will be oh glory_

Morning came, the light of the sun reached its pale fingers through the puffy clouds, close to the horizon. As expected, I didn't sleep well, and I woke up with a terrible crick in my neck; the lean-to we had here wasn't exactly five star material. Quite a length of time had passed since that first eventful sparring match, about a week or two, I reckoned. The time had passed easily as we slid more or less into a disjointed 'routine'. Sighing, I sat up, deciding I might as well get up and face the day. Rubbing my aching neck, I realized that I was alone. Even Al was gone from his usual spot beside the lean-to. I crawled out from under it so as not to hit my head on the low roof, standing quickly, and scanning the surrounding trees earnestly. I started forward, about to haul ass and search for them, when I heard a noise —rustling plant life — and I stopped dead, tensing. Waiting.

Could it be Wrath? Had Edward and Alphonse seen something and decided to investigate? Then what was coming my way?

Well, I'd find out.

Suddenly, the foliage parted, revealing—

"Oh, it's you guys," I laughed uneasily, slowly relaxing. "You startled me." I had begun to feel increasingly uneasy as the days passed, occasionally snatching ephemeral glimpses of the dark, wild half-homunculus, half-alchemist boy that would become the deranged, if, albeit, misguided Wrath.

"Of course, who else'd be on this island?" Edward asked; though the question was rhetorical, he had a peculiar expression on his face as he looked at me, as though he were seeking an answer in my eyes. I quickly looked away, and my gaze fell on the still creature he carried in his hand —small, brown, furry.

"We decided to get up early and catch some breakfast," Alphonse informed me.

"Had a hell of a time trying to sleep last night," Edward added, "so I decided to wake up early and do something productive. Breakfast's served." He said with a faint snicker, lifting the rabbit by the grip he had on it's back legs.

Clapping my hands together, I rubbed my palms and said, "alrighty then, let's get to it, I'm starved."

I changed out of my nightgown and into my regular clothes — during which the brothers made a pointed effort not to be anywhere nearby where certain accidents might occur; none of us wanted a replay of _that_ misadventure — and then joined them to help set up breakfast.

It's strange for me to think that not that long ago, catching, cleaning, and eating wild game would have revolted me to no end. But out here, you had to work to survive. Deal or die, that's what my life has now become. I went from loving, sheltered, (if a little wanting) home life with my mother, to living with vampires and on the run from others, to this: completely cut off from everything I knew (at my own doing, I know) and fighting a bleak struggle against an imposing force — and more likely than not to screw things up royally with my own meddling. Damn, how selfish I am! If—

I felt a decisive, but mild prod on my arm, and I was extricated from yet another internal monologue. I 'came to', and found that I had been staring blankly into the flames of our cooking fire on the beach. Edward, I discovered, was the prodder, and both brothers were giving me rather concerned looks. This was not the first time, so I understood their apprehension.

"Are you okay?" Alphonse asked; the question was plain on Edward's face as well.

I smiled unconvincingly. "Yeah, I'm fine; just thinking."

Edward gave me a weary, and faintly exasperated expression. "You always say that, but sometimes it's hard to believe you."

"If something's troubling you, you can talk to us," Al put in empathetically.

'_No, sorry, but you can't help me with this one, boys. I'm on my own.'_

"Thanks. It means a lot." I tried to put as much sincerity into my smile as I could, but I think there might have been too much sadness in it. "Rabbit's done," I pointed out, drawing the attention of the conversation away from me and back to our meal.

After a while, the customary silence of the meal was broken. "So," Edward began, feigning ease, "have you been noticing anything odd on the island?" He posed the question aloud to everyone, but he had a keen eye on me.

"Uh, no — not so much, really..." I spluttered nervously. I was going to have to work on the whole 'being convincing' thing.

"Actually, yes, I have been noticing strange things. Remember that one time about five days ago when all the fish went missing?" Alphonse said animatedly.

"Yeah..." Ed mumbled, casting a look in my direction. He and Al had been off doing the whole 'foraging' thing while I was at the water catching more fish as the first batch was cooking on the fire back at camp. We all returned almost at the exact same time, and found that the fish were gone. Edward suspected me initially because I didn't have anyone else to corroborate that I hadn't taken it. The fact that there was a print of a right hand in the sand near the fire enforced his hypothesis until I proved the print was too large for my hand (curse my teensy little hands!).

"And have either of you seen... strange things? Like, saw something out of the corner of your eye, looked to see what it was, and then it would be gone?" Edward went on, staring pensively at his mostly-eaten fish.

"A few times maybe," Al said reluctantly; he hadn't seen much of Wrath, Edward had seen more than him, but I'd seen more than them both, and I knew what it actually was that they were seeing. It would be best to keep them in the dark until the right time, and try as hard as possible to not change things.

"Actually, come to think of it, I think I have seen something," I began thoughtfully. "Something dark, moves pretty fast, right?"

Edward nodded, taking a bite of his fish, and chewed it slowly, speculatively. "I'm pretty sure it's a person, I've suspected for a while that we weren't the only ones here on this island."

"You won't do anything about it?"

He shrugged. "There was someone here on this island when we were kids, I think it might just be the same person."

The incredulity showed on my face plainly, I knew. Edward ignored it and turned his full attention to the fish, I decided to follow his example. Alphonse sat there quietly, serene as ever, if a little lost in thought, it would've seemed.

"The lean-to looks like it needs a little TLC..." Edward observed irritably.

"Yeah, I think our _lean-to_ is _leaning_ a little _too_ much." I agreed, looking the sad little structure over. I gave them a cheesy smile.

"That was a really bad joke."

"I know." I sighed, acting defeated.

To call the lean-to a structure insulted buildings everywhere. Flimsy, windblown, and sagging to one side, the lean-to looked like something in the throes of death. _"Kiiilll meee..."_ It seemed to be saying. _"Eeend theee agonyyy..."_

We set to work, finding stronger branches to support the frame; hunting down the wide, tropical palm-like leaves to replace the ones on the roof. When it was all done I was very proud of the results, having suffered three splinters and a leaf in the eye in the process. I stood back for a moment to admire the work. We added a second story, and even put in running water using hollow reeds! And I'm completely jerking your chain! What do you think this is, _'Cribs'_? Hey, it's a deserted island, a lean-to shelter's pretty awesome here.

By the time we were finished, it was a few hours to noon. Ah, time for a little bit of sparring.

"...Ok, then you shift your weight back, follow through, put your hands down, then land on your feet again." Edward was instructing. He crouched forward, then sprung up, throwing his weight backward, successfully rotating in mid air, touching his hands to the ground beneath him before returning to his feet once more.

The back flip.

Oh joy.

Do you remember when you were a kid and you _always _wanted to learn how to do a back flip like in all those kung-fu movies? For those of you who were never stupid enough to try it on your own, be grateful. Be very grateful. The only reprieve I got when I made a mistake was that I was practicing on nice, soft sand. Sadly, it could also be a drawback, the sand could shift under you when you least expected it, throw you off balance, and then you were in for a fun ride into the ground on your neck. I'm serious: sometimes it takes some massive willpower not to crumble under the futility.

Edward had just explained — then demonstrated effortlessly — the proper way to pull off a back flip for the eleventh... no, twelfth time at that point. He was actually doing a good job on being patient with me. So far, I had only succeeded in landing on my ass eight out of those twelve times, and the four remaining tries, I'd landed on my head. God, I am _so smooth_. Alphonse stood on the sidelines giving moral support.

"_Ok, lucky number thirteen. Here we go. Please don't let me snap my neck!" _I pleaded silently to the deity of failed back flips. Who knows, there might very well be one. I did as Edward instructed, following his examples. The world spun around me disorientingly, ground then sky— warm, sifting sand between my fingers — then ground again, this time on my feet. I stood up straight out of the crouch, amazed.

"I did it!" I cried out happily, employing all of my willpower into stopping myself from doing a retarded dance. Instead, I allowed myself a fist-pump. "Yesss! Victory!" I grinned widely despite myself.

"Wow," I heard Ed mutter. I turned my gaze to him, and he met it. "Good work," he said, giving me a thumbs-up. "Now, do it again." He smiled diabolically.

I glared darkly at him and proceeded to hone my new skill. Well, not quite _skill_ at the time, I wasn't that good yet, but I got better. Eventually with several more punishing days, I was able to pull off a back flip in a moment's notice, and a one-handed one to boot. We were fast approaching the one month mark.

And with over a dozen new moves in my repertoire (which sounds a little strange to me, makes me think of leveling-up in a video game— 1UP!) I would be heading back to the mainland with a whole case o' whoop-ass under my belt. _"The mainland... back to Central..."_ I was lying down in the lean-to, arms tucked back behind my head to cushion it. I stared up at the roof of sticks and leaves above me.

"_The Colonel... he must be looking for me... dammit, being a prime suspect in a crime I tried to prevent... seems ironic... Maes... I wish I could've saved you." _

My eyes stung, and I fought the tears welling in them. I angrily rubbed at my eyes, willing the tears to go away. It was still daytime, but the skies were overcast, an irregular event here. The clouds even looked to be threatening us with rain. Very rare; usually the Dublith area was very hot and very dry, being extremely southward as it were.

" 'It's... going to rain today,' " I quoted the Colonel himself quietly in a choked voice, the tears spilling over uselessly from the corners of my eyes and into my hair because I was still lying down. I laughed humorlessly. I wiped them up away and tried to focus my thoughts on something else. I wondered how Hope was doing. The abnormal little cat had hardly crossed my mind at all during my stay on Yock Island. Who knows what an ancient demon embodied in a fuzzy little kitten does in her spare time? Probably kicking back quite nicely with Izumi, Winry, and Sig. I wondered if the silence was irritating her; she couldn't very well talk aloud in case anyone heard her and started freaking out, or some other alternative reaction. At least I _hoped _she wasn't talking aloud around people. That would leave me a lot of explaining to do.

I heard someone approach then; Edward, I reasoned, because there wasn't the heavy clunking of a huge suit of armor, but you could still hear the faint sounds of metallic clinking in the almost-absolute silence. I didn't visibly acknowledge his arrival until he lowered himself to the leafy floor of the lean-to next to me.

"What're you doing here wasting this beautiful afternoon away?" He asked, trying to sound a tad nonchalant, but I could still hear the undercurrent of concern in his voice. "After lunch you just wandered away on your own. You alright?"

"Thinking." I replied quietly, shortly. I tilted my head away so that he wouldn't see that I had been—scratch that, still was—crying. "And would hardly be a 'beautiful' afternoon in popular opinion." I personally enjoyed overcast days, but not everyone would agree.

Edward ignored my dry comment on the weather. He frowned, stretching to try and see my face clearly, studying my mood and trying to puzzle together my expression. "How's your side? It didn't seem to be bothering you that much anymore."

I smiled thinly. "It seems to be on the mend actually." I patted my side over where the wound lay to reinforce my statement. It was healing — slowly, so very, very slowly— and it was fractionally better than it was a week or two ago. But it was still healing too slowly for me. As I was beginning to suspect more and more strongly that there must be something about the Homunculi that interferes with my systems. It made me think that maybe I'd gotten something sort of like an infection when Envy had injured me, slowing my usually lightning-fast healing—albeit lightning-fast healing with the help of my powers—to the slow crawl of a turtle with a broken leg.

"Well if it's not your side," Edward said, his frown laced with concern, "then either talk to me about it or get up and stop moping around."

"So my options are to either get my butt into gear or talk about my feelings?" I asked.

"Pretty much."

"Feelings. Ugh. Fine then," I said, sitting up swiftly. "Up I get; let's go."

We made our way from the lean-to out onto the beach where Alphonse stood patiently, his gaze on us. I could almost visibly see him cheer up in his suit-of-armor body at our arrival. "Clarissa, are you okay? You had us worried, you seemed very sad over the past few days."

"The end of the month is just tomorrow, don't worry, we'll be off this stupid island before you even realize it." Edward said, tag-teaming with Al to try and raise my spirits.

"_The end of the month. Back to Dublith. Central. Roy Mustang. The murder.. Maes... Maes... What a mistake I've made... Oh... Oh god... I don't feel so good..."_ My panic bubbled over wildly and my lungs closed off, making my stomach churn and the world spin around me. It started getting blurry, dark; it must have been showing because alarm played over Edward's face and Al's armored body was held in a pose of urgent stress. Edward reached towards me as my legs gave out and everything went black. Sensation had not yet left me, and I was aware that I did not hit the sand as my fall ended... I was being held up... then carried... Finally, I fell into deeper levels of unconsciousness.

I had never actually passed out from anything that didn't include pure exhaustion or physical damage. It always got me thinking of those women in the movies who fainted dead away when they heard the 'shocking' news of one thing or another. I always thought, 'that's never gonna be me, I'd never be that weak.' Well fry me up and call me dinner, because that's exactly what happened. Talk about a bruised sense of pride.

My senses came back to me slowly; first, I could feel a mixture of leaves and ground underneath me, cool to the touch; smell was next, and my nose was filled with living, green, earthy aromas then I could see the faint glow of light behind my eyelids— sunlight it had to be, but too bright for the overcast afternoon I had last seen. The last sensation to return was hearing strangely enough; I heard breathing—shallow and scratchy — then I realized it was my own. Beyond my breathing, I heard low murmured voiced, and I recognized them instantaneously. It was Ed and Al. I opened my eyes, I saw that I was lying on my back, half in, half out of the lean-to. The clouds were gone and the sun shone through a gap in the overhead foliage of the trees, a patch of light directly in my eyes.

Edward and Al were looming apprehensively over me, talking anxiously. I was only catching smatterings of what they were saying, but it was getting clearer. "...How long...? ...slight fever...last day..."

I sat up, and the motion set my head spinning. With the heel of my hand pressed to my temple—my skin felt warmer than it should— I regarded them dizzily. "What... happened? I passed out... then... Wait! What time is it!"

They exchanged a hesitant look, then Alphonse spoke. "Clary, you were out for a whole night... it's the morning after — the last day."

"Yeah, we better get our act together, Teacher's coming around noon." Edward put in.

"You have a bit of a fever, too." Al again.

"Yeah, I heard," I replied, lurching to my feet. They stepped forward automatically to catch me as I leaned forward, but I help up a hand to stop them, regaining my balance. "Oh, jeez... what a headache." I quickly checked myself over, and I realized I still wore my clothes from the previous day, crumpled and wrinkly, dirtier than I would've liked; I can't say I was relieved.

Ignoring the throbbing _agony_ between my temples, I helped Edward and Al extinguish the fire. Neither myself nor Edward had brought much — Al, nothing at all — so it was a short endeavor to pack up what we had (in fact, what I brought was all that I had to my name, sadly). Had it really been less than a couple months since I left home? It felt longer, a lifetime ago. It was certainly a different life I was leading. When I thought about it, about all that I'd been through in such a short time, it was hard to keep my head from quite literally imploding. Just... Wow. No word was more appropriate or more insufficient.

I needed to get back to more important things; if I continued to sulk like this, nothing would get done. When everything was organized, we gathered on the beach in a line. I sat with Edward, Alphonse on his left side, both kneeling on the sand. We waited. It wasn't long until we saw tiny shapes moving on the distant shore, which then gathered to a larger dark object then, as one, glided out onto the water. The air felt tight with apprehension. The blob slowly came closer - I knew it was Izumi and Mason coming in the boat, and I could begin to see them. This was it; within minutes, they would arrive, there would be some talking, then they'd hear something in the bushes, a few brief comments and a startling revelation for the brothers, then the child that would eventually become Wrath would emerge, there would be a slight, brief scuffle, then Izumi would take the child and bring it back with us. Then a whole assortment of new problems will arise. Awesome? No, not so much.

All eyes were on the boat as it traversed the gently rolling water. Apprehension was as thick in the air as the heat, if not thicker. Edward swallowed hard, but a look of quiet determination flashed in his golden eyes. I sucked in a deep breath — a strong ache overlaid a sharp, but slowly diminishing pang where my wound was — and let it out slowly. I could feel the fever burning in my ears, it was getting bad. The dark blob of the passenger-laden rowboat came closer slowly, but with a strong, sure inevitability.

Sweat beaded on my forehead, and not just because if the climate of the region. Now that my stay on the island was over — effectively, my 'vacation' — events would be irrevocably set into motion. Events that I could not stop, that could affect the outcome of my choices, and I would have to face them. Even if they bring me humiliation, pain, and death; I could run, and try to save my own self, like a coward, or I could grow a fucking backbone and face it. God, that scares me to death. Can I be strong enough to sacrifice and give all I can for those I care about? Can I be so self-assured and presumptuous that I can? That what I do — if having any sort of effect at all — can make things okay? I may not be exactly what the doctor ordered, but _damn it all, I CAN TRY! _

I set my stance resolutely, pulling myself to my feet, standing with my back straight and my head held high with determination. I held my hands in tight fists. _'I can DO this! I have to try! BELIEVE! I have the power to change this for the better! I HAVE THE POWER—!' _

"Clarissa?" Edward asked me cautiously, jerking me from my internal pep talk. "Are you okay? You look like you're about to rip out someone's still-beating heart and grind it into the dirt."

"It didn't look like I was gathering the resolve to fight off the denizens of evil and make all things right with the world again?" I asked despondently.

Edward shook his head no.

I sighed sadly, my shoulders sagging. I sat back down. By that time, the boat was just several meters from the shore and I straightened my posture slightly. The fire and wild determination had subsided, but my resolution stayed firm. Look out, Amestris, here I come. Whether I'm ready or not.

The bow of the rowboat slid-crunched into the sand of the shore before us. Izumi disembarked, and as always, she exuded a commanding presence. It took enormous control to prevent myself from instinctively recoiling from the domineering woman. But really, shouldn't I know better? I've _seen_ that she has a tender side, through the eyes of others as well as my own. I breathed deeply and sunk into my zone, temporarily drowning out my surroundings; slipping away like that was disconcertingly easy. _'Perhaps I should try to stop leting it happen...'_ I thought to myself, just as something snagged my attention — sound and movement, blurred and muffled.

I surged to the surface, crashing into clarity. Eyes are on me; Edward has his hand on my shoulder, and I finally became aware of him gently shaking me, concern plain in his features; Izumi eyed me sharply, an eyebrow raised, perturbed. Al was in the periphery, and somehow worry was clear to see on his metal visage.

"...A-are you okay?" Al asked quietly, finally speaking up. Edward remained silent and disconcerted while Izumi was similarly tense.

I blinked, shedding the last dregs of fogginess, and gave them my best reassuring smile. "I'm _fine_," I gave an embarrassed chuckle, "sorry about that, sometimes I zone out, I, uh..."

I trailed off just as a sudden rustling came from the foliage behind us. Izumi's eyes flashed towards the disturbance, alert as a predatory feline. Like a cheetah, maybe. Edward and Alphonse were hardly a split-second behind her, their senses almost as sharp as their teacher's. We all tensed, eyes on the trees.

No one moved.

No one breathed.

Finally, Wrath emerged.


	12. Uncertainty

**What's mine is mine, and what's not is not. There: disclaimed.**

* * *

What I Bargained For

Part Twelve: Uncertainty

_Uncertainty is killing me  
And I'm certainly not asleep  
Maybe I've gone far too deep  
Maybe I'm just far too weak  
And that's the last place I want to be _

_The last place_

_And there is so much we don't know_  
_So we love and we hope that it holds_

_Thousands were lost maybe more_  
_The question remains, what is this for?_  
_Maybe it came unexpected_  
_Maybe I'm left unprotected_  
_And that's the last place I want to be_

_The last place_

_And there is so much we don't know_  
_So we love and we hope that it holds_  
_And either we say or we show_  
_So I'm going to fight for my own_

_I'm holding on until the last_  
_I'm holding on until there's nothing left_  
_I'm holding on until the last_  
_I'm holding on until there's nothing left_

The Fray

'_Finally…' _I thought, while the others were fixed in place from the silence that comes with a moment of discovery, of revelation. All eyes were fixed on the pale, skinny boy with long, dark hair, the wild eyes, and the wide smile.

'_At last__, the other shoe has dropped.' _

From this point on, there's no going back, not that there ever was before; but now—now things would start happening, and fast. The initial shock of silence was passing, the moment bursting like a tension-plucked bubble. Al then asked Mason if this boy was someone he'd sent to mess with them, and of course Mason denied, which sparked an argument about the harsh treatment of the boys on the island years before – until an irate Izumi shut them down, returning their attention to the matter at hand. But as she approached the boy, a bloody cough erupted forth, frightening the child. I had a flash of recollection -

'_This is where he—should I stop Edward from-?' _

But before I had even finished my thought, Wrath had fused the stone to his hand, eliciting disbelief from Ed, who rushed toward the child. I sighed, waiting out the ensuing scuffle as best I could without showing too much impatience, trying to channel it into a look of confusion and anxiety. Feigning the anxiety wasn't hard, by the way.

In the end, Izumi deflected Ed from the boy, wrapping him in her coat, speaking with gentle, comforting words while Edward stood by uneasily.

Needless to say, the boat ride back was unnerving.

Back again at the Curtis residence, my foremost concern – you know, beyond the recent arrival of a soon-to-be unstable homunculus/plot point – was finding Hope. As it was, my worries that she'd lost her fuzzy little kitten mind and started talking to everyone were unfounded. However…

"I simply _cannot BELIEVE_ that you would leave me _here _for an entire _**MONTH!**_" Hope raged in the private confines of our bedroom at me. "How _degrading_, how _infuriating_, this was to be left here _with these people-_-!"

"Oh, come on they're not _that _bad…" I interjected mildly. I was sitting on the floor, my back against the side of the bed while Hope sat upon it by my left shoulder.

"—whilst my charge, whom I'm _bound by unbreakable vows _to protect, went off gallivanting with some diminutive boy and his tin-can compatriot!" Hope continued.

I imagined Edward sneezing at Hope's mention of him and chuckled. "This is _not_ a laughing matter, '_Clarissa,'_" Hope sneered thickly at my pseudonym, and all my humor dried up. "Why you even insisted on being in this place and meddling with the affairs of these people is beyond me, and it is not my place to tell you how you use your gifts or spend your time, but all I see in this endeavour are _foolishness and pride._"

Ouch; Hope was really going for the throat this time. Her words cut me deeply; it was true - and the truth really does hurt. I had no right to be here and mess things up, and the only thing that was stopping me from leaving with my tail between my legs was stubbornness.

I sat down weakly on the bed, deflated. "You're right," I told her quietly.

Hope's demeanor changed, softened. Her ancient, wise eyes grew sad. "Of course, I'm right: I have the wisdom of thousands of years in my undying soul. You, however, are at a disadvantage, needing to learn everything as you go along, stumbling about over your mistakes when you make them." She sighed; it carried a relenting tone. "But, perhaps you need this… journey of self-discovery." Hope smiled her cat-smile at me, a hint of slyness curling around her whiskered mouth;but more important were her golden eyes: they glowed with warmth and affection, and with them my mood lifted, ever so slightly.

"Oh my, how sage-like indeed," I replied, tentatively poking fun, lightening the mood; asking for forgiveness.

"And don't you soon forget it, you little hellion!" Hope replied proudly, her nose in the air, and I knew I was forgiven. I smiled and scratched her behind the ears, which she allowed with feigned austerity. Then, something seemed to occur to her. "Speaking of the ill-tempered one and his brother, where are they? I would think you'd be clinging to them like a limpet." Hope said wryly.

"Ha-ha, very funny," I replied, tweaking her ear, "I can't monopolize _all_ of their time, don't you know?"

"What is the meaning of that strange child downstairs?" Hope asked suddenly, a cold edge to her tone, "he smells like the ones who injured you."

I frowned. "Yes, him…" I murmured quietly, as the atmosphere had gone dark. "His is an interesting case… he's Izumi's child, or what remained… it's kind of hard to explain, suffice it to say he's rather 'unique'." My frown deepened, becoming a scowl.

"Well, I do not like the smell of him; I'll be keeping an eye on that one…" Hope laid her ears flat to her head, a hard glint in her yellow eyes.

"I assure you there's no need, Ed'll already be watching him like a hawk," I told her, but Hope was still clearly ill at ease. We fell silent.

After a moment of thought, I proposed: "you know what sucks? Knowing what's going to happen, even if it's something bad, and knowing you shouldn't try to change it because it serves a better purpose in the end."

Hope sighed, exasperated, and rolled her eyes, "by the _stars_, I never had this kind of trouble with any of your ancestors!"

I couldn't help but laugh at her reply, which earned me a quick '_whap!' _of her paw on my nose, and fell silent.

"I think I'm going to turn in early tonight, I can't wait to sleep on a _real bed_ after a month of sleeping on the ground!" I proclaimed, and I was genuinely excited; nothing quite like some hardcore camping to make you appreciate the amenities you have. Hope grumbled something about how obnoxiously long a month was and wandered off to another part of the bed to curl up and nap.

'_Though, I expect I'll be staying in a place no better than a dungeon before long, when the Colonel catches up to me, I wonder how soon?' _

I was able to ponder this question, among others, for a short while before my stomach began to growl, demanding attention. The fever that was blazing just this morning was down to a low simmer at most, and with its retreat, hunger advanced. At least I knew I could still fend off mundane afflictions relatively easy.

It was deep into the evening with night settling in, and I didn't expect anyone else to be about, so I decided to help myself to some food, and made my way downstairs to the kitchen. Upon entering said kitchen, catching me by surprise, I saw Winry sitting at the table, quietly eating what appeared to be a ham sandwich. To her left was a pitcher of what looked like orange juice, and a glass of the same stuff stood next to her plate.

"Oh—hi, I didn't know anyone else was up." I said, trying to elicit a conversation.

"Hi," Winry replied in a clipped manner, perhaps also caught off guard. Her tone relaxed only slightly as she said, "there's sliced meat in the icebox and bread on the counter, if you want to make a sandwich." Obviously my intent was clear.

"Ah, thanks," I murmured, glancing over at the conspicuous cabinet at the far wall. Unfastening the latch, I opened the door to see the inside was lined with metal. On a metal shelf at the top, was a large rectangular block of ice, keeping items on shelves below it cool. I quickly selected the sliced meat in question, wrapped in brown paper, and shut the icebox door.

'_How weird it is to think that in this world people are advanced enough to create artificial limbs unlike anything back in my own reality, and use alchemy, yet they still use things like iceboxes!' _

While the meat may have been sliced, the bread that I was about to use was not. I picked up the knife that Winry had employed just minutes before and cut two clumsy portions for myself. The dismal hunks of bread reminded me how much I sorely missed pre-sliced bread. Hastily assembling my meager feast on a plate and restoring the meat to its place in the icebox, I proceeded to rummage about for a glass. Once I was able to find one, I sat down at the table to Winry's right.

"Hey…um, Winry, could you pass the—?" I began, gesturing towards the pitcher.

"Right here," She cut in promptly, taking the pitcher and placing it near my left hand with a stout '_clunk'_.

'O_h, I see how it is. This will undoubtedly become a problem…'_

"Thanks," I said hesitantly, grasping the handle of the pitcher and pouring the beverage into my glass, then setting it back down lightly.

The atmosphere was so thick you could cut it with a knife; the silence was so imposing I was reluctant to chew too loudly, lest I set off Winry's hair-trigger temper. As it was, the vibes she gave off were nothing close to pleasant. I ate quickly, trying to prepare for a shitstorm that I had a feeling was brewing. Several minutes passed while we ate, and the mood continued to darken—until suddenly, the silence was broken.

"So, what happened on the island?" Winry asked abruptly, trying to feign a casual tone. She was staring into her glass, her hand enclosing it loosely.

"I—wait," I began, taken aback, "what do you mean, 'what happened'?" I glanced over at her, having at first raised, then lowered, my eyebrows.

"Don't play stupid, you know exactly what I mean," Winry shot back. She spoke quietly, but there was barely-contained resentment in her voice.

_'Shitstorm ahoy.' _

"What…you mean—" I spluttered out, realization fully dawning. I went on the defensive, turning to her indignantly. "Whatever may have _'happened'_"—here I used air-quotes to emphasize my derision – "what business is it of yours?"

Upon hearing that, Winry seemed at a loss for words — for only a moment. "Wh—I — He doesn't even _know you_!" She declared furiously, jumping up from her seat. "You just come out of _nowhere_, saying all these things, tagging along, we don't even know who you _are_—_why does he __**trust **__you?_" She finished angrily, practically shouting.

During her tirade, I also had risen to my feet, and my anger seethed within me. "You're afraid he might prefer me over you," I began, my voice dangerously calm, "if he does, what could you _possibly_ do about it? To him you're just 'a friend', a _repair girl_—like a sister a best," I narrowed my eyes at her. "He doesn't see you the way you want him to."

Winry returned my gaze, glaring angrily back at me. Her hands were clenched in tight fists at her sides, but her lower lip trembled, betraying her distress caused by my words. I could see in her eyes she was scrambling for a cutting response, but I was gearing up to beat her to it in a spectacular fashion.

I prepared to drop my final barb, and began my... closing statement.

"It's his decision to make, no one else's, to choose what he wants — or _who."_ I paused for effect, letting it sink in, gaining momentum before I continued. "No matter what you yearn for, or how much you pine, or beg and plead, if he doesn't want you: _he doesn't want you._" I stated with finality, feeling a cold, dark emotion well up in me.

The look of pain and sadness, overlaid with shock, that played unbidden across her features was perversely satisfying to see; and for a bare second I appraised my work. A moment after she silently dropped back into her seat, like a puppet whose strings were cut, I picked up my bare plate and empty glass and placed them in the sink. Then, not giving her a second glance, I walked out of the room and left her alone in the kitchen, a hideous smile curled at my lips.

While on my way upstairs, I began to think about what I had just done, and the full force of it struck me, stopped me in my tracks. I was awash in horror, repulsed by my ruthlessness, my enjoyment of Winry's suffering. I choked on my own throat, desperate to apologize, though knowing she'd never accept it, would never forgive me. Hope's words rose in my mind again: 'foolishness and pride' — this was something more sinister.

_'What the fuck just happened to me? __Oh god, what have I done?__'_

I wondered how I could at least repair some of the fucking-up I'd done; and then it occurred to me. I closed my eyes, seeing Winry behind my lids, a spot of light wavering with anxiety, and I reached toward her, tentatively, with my mind. Hopefully this wouldn't make things worse, I'd never tried anything of the sort before.

Focusing, I thought to her, _'a dream, the conversation was a dream, you fell asleep at the table, and it never really happened.' _I stopped there, not wanting to push my luck or psychically lobotomize her. Once I was fairly certain the suggestion had taken root, I withdrew, and broke off the connection — to be rewarded with a splitting headache. I sucked in air between my teeth, bowing my head into my hands. Momentarily, I felt my nose tickle, and I rubbed at it with the back of my hand, which came away bloody. I stared at the red smear for several seconds, my eyes wide.

"Oh. Well, shit. I better not try that again."

Had it worked? Hopefully. The question now was would she act as if nothing happened and continue to be friendly? Even if she thought it was just a dream, I'd most likely be getting the cold shoulder from then on. Passivity was not Winry's style.

I knew even before my head hit the pillow I wouldn't be able to sleep, owing in part to the still-throbbing headache I'd given myself. All night, I had laid awake, eyes closed to feign slumber, Hope curled at my feet, softly snoring her kitten-snore. How long would she stay a kitten anyway?

It wasn't long before my mind wandered to the tougher questions during the night, needling me, keeping me awake. Not to mention the racket from the commotion Ed, Al, and (the kid who would later be known as) Wrath caused later on, in the middle of the night. I was surprised that Sig and Izumi had enough room for all of us, and for that I was glad — I would be horrified to have to share a room with Winry after everything that had gone on between us. Eventually, I was able to doze off, but my sleep was rife with brief but vivid nightmares.

I awoke the next morning to find that Ed and Al were talking with Izumi about the Homunculi and their experiences with Gate. It was only a matter of time until I came up in the conversation. I was apprehensive of what they would say to her; I didn't need any more people to be suspicious, and have them ask prying questions of me. So, at the time, I thought it best to avoid that particular situation altogether. It was cowardly, I know, but if they sat me down and grilled me, what was I going to say? 'Hey guys, I'm just some sort of freaky-magical-semi-immortal-creature and I come from an alternate reality in which you guys are just fictional creations with which we amuse ourselves; ain't no thang.' I didn't think that would go over well, and I didn't have the heart to lie through my teeth — or risk getting tripped up in my own fabrications, which would just make things worse.

As they talked in the downstairs kitchen, I dressed myself in my black slacks, long-sleeved linen shirt, and ubiquitous black boots; I also attempted to brush my ludicrously long hair, but gave up and tied it back. I decided to leave my coat behind — it's called a 'duster', apparently, like what cowboys would wear, oddly enough — seeing as the weather forecast in Dublith usually hovers between warm and face-meltingly hot. I left behind a note with "taking a walk to get fresh air" or something equally vague scrawled on it and quietly slipped out of the house.

I wasn't planning on wandering too far, seeing as I obviously knew jack shit about the area. After all, it would be in my best interest to stick close to the Curtis' meat shop, lest I get myself into some mess of trouble, though I had a feeling that might be inevitable. Regardless, a lot of pivotal things were about to happen, and I wasn't about to miss out on the action.

I recalled that soon after this conversation with the brothers, Izumi would head to Yock Island, to the site where she attempted to resurrect her stillborn son; and during her absence, Ed and Al would make a 'stunning discovery' about the strange boy that would lead to a chase, his capture, a skirmish at the south military headquarters… yeah, I planned to be around for that. I quietly left the house and headed down the street, appreciatively sucking in the warm fresh air; my mind drifted back to the old problems and worries I'd been harbouring.

The question still remained, however: should I try to interfere and change things, hoping for a better outcome? Or would my meddling simply prove disastrous? I decided to hedge my bets, and try to let things play out as they normally would have, unless an opportunity should arrive where I saw no negative consequence. But even that would be difficult; how could I know if one small little act, good or bad, wouldn't influence the course of events in a catastrophically negative way? Quite simply, I couldn't; not without driving myself insane, and that's the last thing I needed.

My contemplations made me frown, and I found myself wishing things could be simpler. I had wished to be able to just swoop in and save the day, do the whole 'hero' thing – prove I could change things, and to be worth remembering. Maybe those were my motives from the beginning: being tired of a painful, unspectacular life full of toil, anonymity, loneliness, and strangeness; craving adventure and excitement; wishing for a more extraordinary existence than my own paltry reality could provide. Selfishness in its purest form, to be sure; before I even gained full awareness of my… powers, I had altered the reality I lived in. Should I have not done that? What if that was like knocking down a load-bearing wall in order to combine two rooms? What if all the alterations I made threatened the integrity of the 'house' of reality?

Sighing, I sat down on a wooden bench crouched near the mouth of an alley between two buildings. My reflections had carried me around the block and two streets away from the Curtis' residence. The streets were, unsurprisingly, not familiar to me, but I remembered the route I had traveled; luckily I wasn't easily lost, especially with the help of my mind's eye, with which I could simply search for a familiar energy, such as Edward or Hope, and head straight for it. I rested my face in my hands, elbows upon my knees; my fingers covered my eyes, blocking out the light of the approaching noon.

I had told Hope to stay behind before departing, asking her to keep an eye on things at the house during my brief jaunt, and to come get me should anything happen. She'd be able to find me easily, she'd told me, due to being bound to me. The thought of that reminded me how much had changed; not long ago, it was just me, my mother, and loneliness pockmarked with strange happenings. Then the first change: the very fabric of reality was rewoven, and I came face-to-face with unbelievable creatures; I was presented with daunting challenges, and either overcame or bypassed them; I gained incredible power, and used it to further bend reality.

I realized then that I enjoyed this power—craved it, even—this power to do absolutely _whatever I wanted_. The crippling blow dealt to me at the Gate, having part of my power taken, damaged me in many ways; I needed it back, and short of risking the Gate again, one thing might be able to restore it to me:

"The Philosopher's Stone," I whispered to myself, parting my fingers in front of my eyes to peer out at the world around me.

I saw children dashing playfully down the road; people talking together, others carrying parcels, entering and exiting shops, and every so often a car would clunk down the street and the frequent bicycles would weave about the diverse traffic. The combined result was a relaxed bustle of activity; ordinary people going about their daily lives. Oblivious.

I sighed again, closing my eyes. The Stone brought nothing but trouble; to pursue it for my own gain would be the utmost stupidity. There had to be other, better, ways of regaining my full strength.

'_Like catching a lightning bolt, for instance. It was good enough for Edison.'_ I thought to myself wryly. _'Of course, _he_ wasn't conducting millions of volts intentionally and directly through his body in an attempt to "charge his batteries".'_

It was something to consider the next time a lightning storm rolled around. With that, I stood up, dusted myself off, and continued down the street. My musings had refreshed my perspective, and left me feeling surer than I had felt in a while. Of course, my fears and uncertainties were still there, the guilt that would never be washed away completely, but I felt a sort of calm acceptance. A small bud of hope swelled in my chest, tenuous and most surprising of all. I allowed a tiny smile to crawl across my features, but tried to remind myself to not to jump the gun.

'_Because often once you think things are about to get better, they come around and bite you in the ass.' _I thought to myself soberingly, aiming to maintain perspective.

So I continued on down the street, looking around with fresh eyes; I peered into the shop windows though I had not a Sen in my pocket, drinking in all the sights and sounds of this strange and wonderful world so alike and unalike my own. A trio of children danced around me, playing a game of tag; then, amidst cries of "sowwy, lady!" and bright laughter, they darted away. I smiled, waving to them as they went; I surprised myself in this, as I never before liked children very much, and I had never even been a babysitter. I supposed in small doses at the right time, children weren't so bad.

I continued on with my window-gazing and watching the passers-by until flashes of deep blue caught my eye up ahead. Through the weaving crowd, glimpses of the military's blue uniforms appeared, two of them, worn by men unfamiliar to me. Quickly, I turned to face the window display of a bakery, peering at the conspicuous officers with a sidelong gaze. I sized them up, trying to determine their purpose in wandering the streets of Dublith. It was clearly no idle stroll.

I could see them striding down the street, about a couple hundred feet, occasionally stopping a bystander in the crowd to speak with them, producing a small square of something. I could only assume it was a photograph or drawing for the bystander to examine. I didn't have to watch long to understand what was going on; they were looking for someone, and I'll give you one guess who. Or a few, considering the company I kept.

The two officers had a method of carefully scanning the immediate crowd, then, while stopping someone to interrogate, one of them would interact with their victim while the other stood by and scanned the throng of people; a solid system. Perhaps also of note was that the 'scanner' seemed rather stoic and had a hard expression while the other seemed more... charismatic; their demeanors apparently shaped the structure of their hunting technique.

Perhaps I was watching too long, or was being too still in the teeming, ever-moving crowd, and if I was being smart, I would have surreptitiously turned around and walked away long before; but I didn't. Then, Mr. Serious seemed to look in my direction, gazing for a short moment before bending down near his comrade's ear, upon which I turned and calmly walked around the corner of the bakery down another street. Once out of their line of sight, I peeled down the street and skidded into the narrow alley behind the bakery. Then, making a few turns around corners in a general direction away from the officers, I came upon a set of crates stacked against the back wall of a building.

The bottommost crates were large — four feet high and as many deep, with others of varying sized perched atop them. Seizing this fortuitous and strangely well-timed coincidence, I used my running momentum to jump and haul myself onto the outermost four-foot-high crate. Luckily the top of this was not fully covered, offering me a stepping-place. Even though the total height of the stack was maybe fourteen or fifteen feet, the roof of the building was still over five feet from the top of it, and would normally have been out of my reach.

However, the keyword here is 'normally'. With blood pounding I my ears from the activity and the adrenaline rush of being chased, I clambered to the summit of the mountain, topped with boxes barely a cubic foot in their dimensions. Standing precariously on them at tiptoe, I reached my arms upward, tapped into my power and propelled myself upward, bending gravity around me. I overshot the edge a bit too far, and I landed in a crumpled heap upon the flat roof, aching from the expense. Breathing heavily though not winded, I tried to calm myself as, flat upon the roof, I crept toward the edge. Being careful not to peek conspicuously over the edge, I used my ears and my mind's eye to monitor for the officers' presence.

Sure enough, not a minute later, the unhurried clip of hard boots sounded off the uneven, cobbled ground of the alley, and respectively, their blazing white silhouettes flared up on my mind's eye as they came nearer. Instinctively, I shrank back from the edge as quietly as possible, now painfully aware of how distant the masking bustle of the crowded streets had become. I held my breath as they appeared to slowly comb the alley around the corner, trying to calm my racing heart; my impulse to cut and run was warring with the fear of making myself known; I knew that if I was caught, the consequences would be very real, and possibly deadly. After all, it could've been Fuhrer Bradley that was sending men after me. Locked in place by fear, I forced myself to move, crawling along the roof to the far side; I could 'see' them approaching, rounding the corner. They paused slightly upon seeing the crates, and then drew nearer to them to investigate; I crawled a little faster, lifting my belly to crawl on my forearms and knees, closing in on the far edge of the roof.

'_Shiiit…' _I swore silently to myself, realizing what they might find. I secretly knew the jig was up. Wishing myself to be silent, I hopped to my feet and dashed to the edge of the roof. I tapped into my power once more, and propelled myself in an unrealistic jump across the twelve-foot gap between the buildings. I landed as discreetly as I could, but I still landed with a faint '_thmp'._ I hastened as I 'saw' them discover the dirty scuffmarks of boots upon the crates I had left behind as I'd fled.

I knew they'd be upon the roof shortly, having followed my escape route up the precarious crates. I poured more speed into my stride, abandoning a silent retreat almost entirely. I felt like a bird as I flew on fast feet and leapt from roof to roof, sometimes scaling up the brickwork or stone adornments to the tops of higher buildings. I didn't need to glance behind me to see that the soldiers had scaled the first building swiftly, but stopped suddenly and appeared stymied; I could imagine them in their amazement as they saw my adroit figure skipping and leaping and climbing structures seven buildings away across obstacles they could not tackle even at the peak of their fitness. I felt secure with my lead, confident that with my abilities I would evade them easily.

I became even so brash as to laugh uproariously, exhilarated by the chase and besting my pursuers. It was a premature celebration, I then realized: the two hunkered down, like sprinters waiting for the gun; wild cats coiling before setting upon their prey. They ran across the rooftop, propelling their masculine forms across the initial gap I could not ford without supernatural means. They _were_ in shape, good enough to confront the challenge I presented. They gained momentum, using it to traverse a more circuitous but level route, unable to perform the same acrobatics as I. Using this to my advantage, I chose routes that would pose difficulty for them: buildings with three stories or more, buildings with peaked roofs or spires. I progressed to performing acrobatics that would put the best of circus performers in the world to shame, accomplishing feats no normal person could. Way to be suspicious.

The officers were inexorable; not advancing upon me, though not falling behind by far. However, I could see their stamina begin to flag as they faltered in their strides or slowed in their climbs. Owing to my upernatural source, my strength would not wane too soon, but I could not keep it up forever. The sun was nearing the horizon by then; my afternoon browsing windows long since gone. This cat-and-mouse chase had gone on much too long, hours more than I intended; I could only imagine in horror the consequences this would have.

Reaching the next building, a particularly challenging one at that, I scaled to the zenith of its church-like spire. Grasping at the base of the metal edifice that topped it, my boots were planted against the steep, shingled side. Biting into my nine-roof lead, I stopped a moment to appreciate the view of Dublith from five stories up. Why the hell not, right?

The slanting light was casting a glowing, copper shine to everything it touched, and far off in the distance I could see the lake in which Yock Island stood; Kauroy Lake, I think Izumi once said it was called. I sighed, soaking in the peaceful scenery, so at odds with the desperate chase playing out across the rooftops. Hardly anyone had spared an upward glance to the goings-on above their heads — a few children, a scant person whose head was already inclined and tilted towards the direction of the hunters and the prey — the struggle went largely unnoticed by those preoccupied people going about their business.

My pursuers neared, closing the distance to eight, seven, and then six roofs away. Letting out a shaky breath, I looked down the length of the twenty foot spire, the girth of which expanded with proximity to the base, offering a steep slope until leveling off. Or rather: shaped like a ten-foot ice cream cone upturned upon a cylinder, and after another ten feet straight down it met the peaked roof of the main bulk of the building. I considered staying atop the spire, they couldn't possibly scale it; however, they _could_ just hang around and wait, bide their time until I grew tired — or until they got a ladder. So…

Steeling myself, I spaced my feet evenly to keep my balance, and I let go of the edifice anchoring me. I skid down the sheer, shingled slope, sliding with such speed as to be closer to falling with my feet against a rough surface. As the spire expanded, the degree of the slope lessened and my descent stabilized. Just as I gained my steadiness, the edge of the spire roof slid out from under my feet. But I was prepared for this, and braced myself as I hit the slanted roof of the building midway between the peak and the edge.

Luckily for me, the church had a walled courtyard, the majority of which was a well-cultivated garden, and so I would not be landing on paved streets or stone and cracking my head open. And yet my landing would not be as soft as I'd hoped. As I slid down the pitched roof of the church, the tip of my boot caught the edge and I was sent plummeting at an angle. I landed hard, careenling through a flowerbed. I felt the strings of my body being plucked at as if by a ferocious musician until my body unfurled itself and smacked against the trunk of a tree, my spine and back of my head impacting solidly.

Pain sang along my limbs and through my back, exploding behind my eyes, leaving me blind for too many moments beyond the initial impact. My body throbbing, I fell forward onto my hands and knees, crawling in agony through the grass; and though my eyes were wide open, I could see nothing but darkness. Alarm was rising inside me, despite knowing that blows to the back of the head – where the center for vision was housed in the brain – could cause temporary vision loss. I suspected the thing that kept me from blacking out on impact was the adrenaline. So as I gasped, each breath wracking my body with pain, I tried to quell the panic and waited while my vision slowly returned.

Able to see again, I stumbled to my feet, my whole body aching, and confounding my attempts to assess what was bruised, broken, or sprained. One injury I was able to confirm: the warmth and wetness spreading downward from my ribs to my hip established that my wretched wound inflicted by Envy had ripped open once more. And again, without adrenaline, I would have remained a crumpled, battered figure slumped against a tree; a bird that had collided with a windshield.

With an arm wrapped around me, my hand pressing into the wound to stem the bleeding, I limped toward the stone wall of the courtyard. I was barely able to stitch together the torn edges of the wound and slow the bleeding, too exhausted I was to fully repair it; I was spent and beaten. Now, faced with a solid-stone, six-foot stop sign, I was unable to scale it. I rested my forehead and the palm of my free hand on the rough stone and sighed unevenly, closing my eyes. Surrender.

Then, out of nowhere, footsteps and voices. My breath caught momentarily, and my stomach dropped. I was caught, trapped. Where would they take me and what would they do to me once I got there? Fear and exhaustion made me quiver and twitch in turn, but there was nowhere to run.

"Clarissa Tailor, you are under arrest for –" one of the officers began to speak, but stopped short as I turned to face them. I saw the pallor of Mr. Charmer drain from his face, and he stepped back in shock.

'_Ah. It must be the blood; it's all down the side of my body. I must look horrific.'_

Then, with all the adrenaline gone, the world blurred around me, darkening, and I collapsed to the ground. _'Why does this keep happening to me? I demand to speak… with the… manager…' _I thought indignantly as I slipped into unconsciousness for the umpteenth time. Honestly, it was getting ridiculous.

My last thought was about what would greet me when I woke up. Little did I know at the time, several of my worst fears would be realized.

* * *

**Well, isn't _this_ quite a surprise, hm? Been a while, boys and girls. Not sure if anyone still cares about this, but it seems I couldn't let this die. Hopefully it won't be another few years before the next one, eh? **


End file.
